


Kirk and Spock's Fascinating Adventure

by pantswarrior



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Community: reel_startrek, F/M, Gen, Humor, Parody, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-25
Updated: 2010-09-25
Packaged: 2017-10-12 04:35:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 44,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pantswarrior/pseuds/pantswarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two young men, whose friendship will bring about a brighter future for all, are in danger of screwing up their destiny - until an older man from the future arrives to lend a helping hand and the means to start off on an incredible adventure. Just this time, there's a telephone booth involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, this is a Trek-based rewrite of Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure - in TOS, there's a canon fight with Genghis Khan and Abraham Lincoln, so I kind of had to do it. All "historical" figures in this fic appear or are at least mentioned as important historical figures at some point in TOS. Will note that this fic is approximately as historically accurate as the film it's based on - meaning not at all.

Captain's log, stardate 2259.121: First Officer Spock and I are at Starbase 31, while the Enterprise is in for repairs. During our downtime, we've been trying to pin down the exact calculations needed to perform something called the 'slingshot' maneuver, which would allow the Enterprise to travel backwards or forwards in time. ...Unfortunately, we've been attempting it for a Terran month now, and have only succeeded in blowing up our warp core. I've gotta say, that was a pretty impressive explosion, but our superiors didn't seem quite so impressed.

"I have recalculated our odds of success."

Jim stopped dictating. "Yeah?"

"Using our current formula, allowing comparisons to past attempts and simulations - which are our only means to test such hypotheses after the warp core was breached, jettisoned, and detonated," Spock noted meaningfully, "-I calculate the chance of succeeding in your proposed mission of observation to be approximately nine hundred thirty-nine million, nine hundred twenty-six thousand, seven hundred and fifty-three point six four five five two-"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Jim cut him off.

"To one," Spock finished.

"Yeah, I guessed _that_ part."

"Very impressive, captain," Spock said, raising an eyebrow. "Unfortunately, your 'guessing' in regards to this formula is not quite so productive."

"Odds are under a billion now, aren't they?" Jim pointed out. "That's something."

"An illogical statement," Spock replied. "All things are 'something'."

"Hey, Spock?" They'd been at this for hours already, and both of their nerves were starting to wear thin. "Less philosophy, more physics, all right?"

"Perhaps if you had thought it through more before suggesting such an undertaking to the council," Spock reasoned, ignoring him, "we would not be in such dire need of my knowledge of physics."

"It's all your fault anyway," Jim argued. "You and Scotty came up with that formula in the first place."

"This occurred in a parallel universe, in the future," said Spock. "In this present universe, I have no such knowledge."

"Not _you_ you, the other you. Why'd he have to go and tell me about that?"

"You did ask for suggestions," Spock reminded him.

That was true, Jim acknowledged with a sigh. A year in, the five year mission wasn't going quite so well as planned. There had been something of a debate about whether to appoint a new, young crew, largely untested except for one major incident, to the fleet's flagship. There had especially been debate about the captain, and Jim had been determined to prove all of his detractors wrong by being the most awesome starship captain they'd ever seen. That was his destiny, according to the Spock who had come back in time, so obviously he could do it.

Except in this universe, he'd gotten a later start on his training for Starfleet. The other him had apparently wanted to be a starship captain his whole life, and had been preparing for it since childhood. He'd already been posted on a ship at the age Jim had enlisted. His education had probably all been with that goal in mind. Meanwhile, Jim had spent an awful lot of time screwing around in Riverside, trying to make himself dumber rather than smarter. In retrospect, a huge mistake, because now that he'd figured out what he wanted to do with his life? He wasn't anywhere near as prepared as he thought he was.

There had been all kinds of stupid mistakes during his first year as captain. Diplomatic sometimes, or relating to Starfleet protocol, which he didn't know inside and out the way Spock did - Spock had saved his ass several times over now. And then there were tactical mistakes, which so far hadn't gotten anyone killed, but Bones spent an awful lot of time yelling at him while he was trapped in sickbay. And aside from Bones, his crew was maybe a little _too_ loyal - they followed his orders without questioning, even when he was wrong. At least, they had at first.

Pike had passed along some gossip a couple months ago - the council was starting to have second thoughts, he said, about whether it was a good idea to have such a young captain with such a questionable background in charge of the fleet's most celebrated ship. _He_ had faith in them all, he assured Jim, but even so... maybe it would be a good idea to give them something really impressive, something to remove all doubt from their minds.

So here they were, in one of the physics labs, drawing up formulas and diagrams of what exactly might result in the time travel phenomenon the other Spock had described as something his own Captain Kirk had been renowned for using to the Federation's benefit. The problem was, Jim had declared to his superiors that he had this brilliant idea... and then when he went to puzzle out exactly how it would work, he was completely lost. When he finally called back the other Spock, desperate, Spock had admitted that unlike the transwarp beaming he had explained to Mr. Scott, it had been a rather long time since he'd had to remember the formula for the slingshot maneuver...

Jim shook his head. "This would work a lot better if Scotty was here."

"Mr. Scott is in engineering, working on the installation of the new warp core," Spock reminded him.

"But it was you and Scotty who figured this out in the other universe. I'm sure if he was up here helping, you could do it again."

"Without the warp core he is busy installing, we would have no way to test the formula even if we did in fact find it."

"And without the formula, the warp core doesn't do me a whole lot of good," Jim said, giving up and leaning back in his chair, "because they're going to take the ship away from me if we can't nail this."

Spock paused in his calculations, finally looking away from the monitor. "Although you do have a tendency towards overachievement, I have observed your style of leadership for long enough to discern that you do have a gift for it. The Enterprise has indeed performed significantly impressive feats under your command, if not so flawlessly as our superiors would have preferred. I believe it would be detrimental for Starfleet to remove you from your current assignment."

Despite his glum mood, Jim had to smile a little at Spock's confidence in him. "Thanks. Coming from you, that means a lot."

"I will state it for the council, if need be," Spock added.

"I appreciate it." Jim shook himself a little, newly motivated, and looked over all the numbers on the screen again. "Let's hope it isn't necessary. Anyway... This part, it's all but set in stone," he explained, turning his monitor towards Spock. "No other way to do that, no wiggle room. I think the problem's in here somewhere - I don't know if my math's wrong, or my fundamental understanding of-"

Spock's communicator interrupted him with a chirp. "Spock, there's a call coming in for you," Uhura reported. "It's originating from the new colony."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." On the job, Spock was all business - wouldn't even call his girlfriend by her first name. "I would appreciate it if you would patch it into monitor 3C in physics laboratory 7."

"Sure, just a second." Uhura wasn't nearly so formal, of course, and a few seconds later, a terminal at the next table was beeping.

Spock rose to have a look, and raised an eyebrow. "It appears to be my father."

"Hope nothing's wrong," Jim said, sitting back to wait until Spock had finished.

Spock sat down in front of the terminal and accepted the transmission. "Father," he acknowledged. "To what do I owe this honor?"

Jim couldn't see Sarek's face, but Spock's dad sounded just like he always did - somehow stern despite the complete lack of emotion. "I have been following the public reports of the Enterprise's progress. It sounds as if the mission is going poorly."

"I would not say that it is going poorly," Spock replied. "It may not be going smoothly, but our assignments have been successful in the end."

"The end does not justify the means, Spock," his father reminded him. "Although I do not have all the information, it appears to me that your captain has made many illogical choices, resulting in time spent unproductively, correcting his errors."

"It is the job of a first officer," Spock noted, "to assist the captain in his productivity. Yet as first officer, I am to support the captain's decisions - not to make them on his behalf. And as I have been taught from my childhood, we can learn much from our errors. Therefore, Kirk has learned a great deal in his first year as captain."

Jim was not exactly sure he liked the way Spock phrased that.

"And have you yet learned from your error, Spock?"

Spock tilted his head curiously. "I beg your pardon? To what error do you refer?"

"I refer to your choosing Starfleet over the Vulcan Science Academy," Sarek answered. "It seems quite obvious that your intelligence would have been put to better use were you to remain among other such logical minds as your own."

"On the contrary, I believe that my actions during the encounter with the Narada justified my decision to enlist."

"At that time, yes," Sarek agreed. "However, the crisis is no more. Nowadays, your time could be spent more productively, as part of the first class at the newly reconvened Science Academy. You could assist in the effort to rebuild - you could take a larger role in the history of our people. Spock... as an ambassador, I have access to many senior Starfleet officials, and they agree that the Enterprise's current leadership is not performing to their expectations. If significant improvement is not shown in the near future, you will be reassigned."

Jim knew very well that Vulcans weren't as emotionless as they pretended they were - especially Spock. He could see the way the muscles in Spock's neck tightened, and hear the tension in Spock's voice. "You have no authority to dictate reassignment."

"The reassignment is already under consideration, and not by my hand," Sarek stated. "I merely requested that if you are to be reassigned, that they reassign you to a post upon our new colony, where you would surely flourish in your scientific learnings rather than stagnate."

Spock's eyes widened - as sure a sign of rage and disbelief as a Vulcan would voluntarily show. "I trust that you did not use such... evocative wording when you addressed my superiors."

"I am more pragmatic than that," Sarek agreed. "However, they agreed with me that you might prove more useful among your own kind. Therefore, if your situation aboard the Enterprise does not improve, you _will_ be reassigned. If so, I must insist that you take advantage of the opportunity you are given, which you turned down years ago, and enroll at the Science Academy."

Jim could see the struggle for control on Spock's face. Finally, he spoke. "I will take your advice under consideration, Father. Live long and prosper."

"Indeed. Live long and prosper, Spock."

Spock ended the transmission, and turned to Jim, but said nothing, his expression all but blank. Jim just nodded slowly. "It's not going to happen," he said. "You're going to stay in Starfleet with me. Remember, that's how the universe is supposed to be - we're supposed to have this epic friendship and long Starfleet careers and everything."

"Yet my father's argument is logical," Spock admitted. "If either you or I are reassigned due to our failure to excel aboard the Enterprise, then it will matter very little what the other does; we will not be serving together in Starfleet any longer."

That idea made Jim grind his teeth. After all the years of searching for a purpose, he'd finally found what he wanted to do for the rest of his life - and he'd gotten everything he wanted, more than he could have dreamed. That included an amazing first officer to help him along the way, someone who was all but guaranteed to be a lifelong friend as well. There was no way he'd let that come to an end after only a year...

"...So I guess we'd better get back to work," he said brightly, gesturing to their monitors. "Want to check over my math here, see if I'm doing something wrong?"

Spock returned to the table where they had been working and began to do so, but the tension Jim had seen in his jaw did not entirely leave.

\---

Only four were present in the chamber of the High Council - T'Nin, president of the Vulcan Science Academy; Sivok, the head of their physics department; T'Pau, the highest ranked among the surviving elders; and one who was, to the majority of those who lived upon the new Vulcan colony, called Ambassador Selek. Those within the chamber knew of his secret, and few others. Fewer still knew of the project he had been overseeing for the last few months. That project was the reason for the day's covert meeting, and it stood beside him in the center of the chamber now.

"I trust my explanation has convinced you of the necessity of such an action."

"I still have my doubts about the wisdom of your plan," T'Nin noted, "but if the timestream is in such peril as you suggest, then this small interference can make very little difference indeed."

"Our own planet has already been destroyed," Sivok agreed. "Though many other civilizations remain, and thus I assure you, we have taken every precaution that we are able to take, though they are few."

"Thy confidence in these two young men is... unusual, to be certain," T'Pau observed, from her seat at the center of the bench. "Particularly the human captain."

The man standing before the three heard the word that she so carefully avoided. "I assure you - if you had the benefit of my experiences, you would agree that my confidence in Captain Kirk is wholly logical."

She nodded slowly. "Thou has our permission," she told him, and raised her hand in farewell, as did those seated on either side. "Live long and prosper, Spock."

He inclined his head briefly in gratitude, and stepped backwards, into the machine he had built with the assistance of Sivok. He raised his hand in return to give his own solemn farewell. "...Party on, dudes."

Being Vulcan, it was not difficult to keep a straight face when he saw the strange looks exchanged by the three - and then, with a crackle of electricity and a sudden jolt, he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Captain's log, supplemental: So much for that last set of calculations. We ran the sims five times, and four of those times, the Enterprise exploded. The other time, we failed to escape the star's gravitational field, and fried before we could blow up. I'd be giving up about now - I think even Spock's about ready to give up - but to be honest... I don't know what I'd do if they took away my ship.

"Perhaps," Spock said, "we should abandon what we assumed to be steadfast, and simply start over from the beginning, in the absence of preconceived ideas."

"Maybe," Jim agreed, resting his head in his hands. "I just don't see how else to begin."

"It may be prudent to start with the end result," Spock suggested, "and work backwards through the procedure."

"How can we do that when the end result is something that no one's ever achieved?" Jim sighed. "I mean, in that other universe, it wasn't even something you set out to do - it was just an accident."

"I agree that such an approach is problematic. However, I am at something of a loss."

Jim groaned, but before he could reply, the laboratory doors opened, admitting something green and red and rather bouncy. "Hey, you two," she chirped cheerfully. "How have you been?"

"Gaila - hey!" Jim exclaimed, sitting up straighter in surprise. He'd had no idea Gaila was in the area - and if she was around, that meant... "We're, uh, doing all right."

"I am not sure by which criteria you would say that we are doing 'all right'," Spock noted, and Jim aimed a wounded glare at him.

Just as Jim had expected, not far behind Gaila was another, and both he and Spock rose as the door opened again. "At ease," Pike told them immediately, looking slightly amused. "I'm not here as an emissary. We were in the area, and seeing as the Enterprise is docked, I thought I'd have a look around. Never got to know her as well as I would have liked."

"You're more than welcome," Jim acknowledged. "She was supposed to be yours, after all. And right now, she's not going anywhere."

"No..." The admiral's tone of voice sounded distracted - and his eyes were fixed not on the fixtures and furnishings of the ship's lab, but on the young woman seating herself comfortably on the table next to their terminals. "No, she isn't."

"Sounds like Kirk and Spock are having a little trouble," Gaila reported, seemingly unaware of the effect her languid, casual posture was having on two of the three men.

"Oh yeah...?" Pike mused. "What seems to be the problem?"

He still looked distracted. Not that Jim could blame him - Gaila had leaned one elbow on his monitor, and her chest was kind of... He cleared his throat and focused on Pike. "Well, sir, it sounds like the council's getting kind of tired of having a captain who's still in the middle of the learning process."

"Kirk attempted to impress them by proposing an innovative manuever which would, if executed properly, allow the Enterprise to move forwards and backwards in time as well as space," Spock added. "However, thus far we have been unable to correctly determine a way to achieve this end that does not result in the destruction of the Enterprise or its propulsion systems."

"Uh huh..." Jim wasn't sure Pike was looking at the equations on the screen, or at Gaila's chest, since it was covering up one corner of his monitor.

"Anyway," Jim muttered, "we already blew up the warp core once trying to get it to work. If we don't have something to show for it pretty soon, they're going to demote me."

"And I," Spock put in, "will be reassigned to New Vulcan, where my father will pressure me to enroll in the Vulcan Science Academy."

"Good..." Pike murmured, his eyes elsewhere. "...Good."

Jim and Spock exchanged glances of disbelief. Or at least, in Spock's case, the twitch of an eyebrow.

"Why don't you take a break?" Pike suggested with a dismissive wave, not looking at either of them. "Getting a fresh perspective might be... exciting."

"A change of location and some time to regroup may indeed prove useful," Spock agreed, saving their progress and rising once more.

Gaila had met Pike's rapt gaze with a coy smile, and Jim made a face in disgust as he followed Spock's lead. "Sure, fine, whatever..."

"I believe," Spock observed, once they were outside the laboratory, "that Pike desired to engage in sexual intercourse with his new bride."

"Shut up, Spock," Jim muttered.

"A laboratory seems to be a highly unusual place for such activities," Spock continued, "though I understand that humans, in their illogical ways, sometimes find such subversions to be what they call 'kinky'."

"Shut up, Spock," Jim repeated.

"If I am not mistaken," Spock added, "were you and Ensign Gaila not involved while still at the Academy, when you were both students?"

" _Shut up_ , Spock!"

\---

Half an hour later, Jim and Spock found themselves outside a dining establishment located on the edge of the colony proper - outside, due to their nonstop, complicated, and increasingly irritable conversation regarding the calculations for the maneuver. The manager of the establishment had, after several suggestions from other patrons, requested that they continue their conversation outside.

The two of them were seated against the exterior wall, the clear dome over the settlement revealing a dark, starry sky above the craggy mountains beyond. Not that either of them were paying attention to the view; Spock had brought along a PADD and a tricorder, and the two of them were handing the PADD back and forth, debating the equations they had jotted down and adding more as they went. But at the moment, they'd figuratively run into a wall.

Jim was getting desperate. "Excuse me," he asked a passerby. "Do you happen to know how to calculate the graviton emissions resulting from a Constitution-class starship traveling at full impulse?"

The guy gave him an incredulous look and moved on. Jim wasn't surprised.

"The matter is further complicated," Spock continued, as if nothing had happened, "by the position of any planets or other large bodies in orbit around the star. Such complications would ultimately be minimized by choosing a star with no objects in orbit - or, since such a star would be quite rare, a star whose satellites are small and set in their orbits far from their star. However, even an asteroid belt-"

"Hey," Jim interrupted. "Isn't this planet supposed to be practically a desert outside the dome, hardly any moisture at all?"

Spock followed Jim's finger as he pointed upwards. "Yes, it is. However, the clouds now gathering quickly overhead are no contradiction, as they appear to be forming _inside_ the dome rather than outside."

"...Hey, you're right." Spock might have been able to accept something that bizarre with no emotional effect, but realizing that there were storm clouds _inside_ a dome which was not large enough to allow for the formation of weather patterns - storm clouds that were swirling in a tight area and beginning to flash, at that - left Jim a little uneasy. "Spock... what _is_ that?"

"It would seem to be an unknown atmospheric phenomenon with no discernible cause."

"Thanks, that's helpful," Jim remarked, staring up at the clouds warily.

"Fascinating," Spock murmured. "An isolated electrical storm so small in scope should not-"

He was interrupted abruptly as the small storm crackled and flashed more brightly for a moment - and then, unexpectedly enough to make even Spock start, a rectangular object appeared to fall out of it.

"Whoa, heads up!" Realizing the trajectory of the object, Jim reached back for Spock's arm. It was moving too quickly, however, and before either of them had gotten to their feet, the object had crashed to the ground only a few meters in front of them. Or more accurately, Jim observed when he lowered the arm he'd thrown up to shield his face, it had... landed. It appeared undamaged, though the protruding array on top of the object still crackled with electricity.

Jim and Spock exchanged glances. "What do you make of this?" Jim asked.

"The text upon the sides of this object is either Terran, or something which looks very much like it," Spock replied. "I am... uncertain, however, because the word it resembles is 'telephone', the precursor to our modern-day communicators - and I do not believe that humans, even at the earliest stages of telephone development, built them to these dimensions."

"Yeah..." That was exactly what Jim had been thinking.

Before either of them had come up with an explanation, they caught a glimpse of movement inside. Instinct caused them both to tense, ready to act, as the front of the object slid open and a figure wearing a long coat emerged. As soon as it stepped forward into the dim light of the colony at night, Jim recognized who it was. He could only assume Spock did too, considering...

"Spock!" he exclaimed, scrambling to his feet. "What are you doing here?"

"I am attempting to assist you with-"

"Not you," Jim told the Spock at his side, and nodded to the one standing in front of them, looking mildly amused. "Future Spock, the one with the giant telephone." He hesitated. "Why do you have a giant telephone?"

"I believe there are more important questions we should be asking," the Spock beside him pointed out.

"Uh, yeah, right." Jim collected himself. "Do _you_ know how to calculate the graviton emissions from a Constitution-class starship traveling at full impulse?"

The older Spock raised an eyebrow. "In my own universe, I could have done so. In this universe, the attributes of a Constitution-class starship have changed, as well as the technologies involved in their propulsion systems; I am afraid I do not have the necessary knowledge."

"Oh." Jim deflated somewhat.

"However," the older Spock continued, "although I am unable to assist you with your current project, I have come to offer you an alternative method of historical observation - if you would find such a proposal acceptable."

"Really?" Jim wanted to be pleased, but he couldn't help being just a little skeptical. "Thanks, but after I proposed controlled time travel, I'm not sure Starfleet's going to be satisfied with a replica of an early telephone."

"What you see before you is not a giant telephone," the older Spock explained patiently, stepping aside to show them the interior. "It is what was called a 'telephone booth'. They were quite popular on Earth during the 20th century. This," he stated, pointing to a box and a mass of cords inside, "is the telephone. And by using this telephone, you can travel through time."

Jim and Spock - his universe's Spock - exchanged glances again. "I find it difficult to believe that Terrans discovered the secret to time travel in the 20th century." said Spock.

"No, no." The older Spock tried again. "This telephone booth merely has the appearance of an object from Earth's 20th century. In truth, it contains modern technology - or perhaps," he corrected himself, "I should say _post-_ modern, as in the universe from which I came, it was not developed at this point in time, and would not be for many years."

"So what you're saying," Jim said slowly, "is that you've invented a time machine."

"That is correct."

"And you're going to loan it to us...?"

"That is also correct."

As crazy as it sounded, Jim was starting to feel hope well up. Thanks to Spock, he and, er, Spock, might just be able to pull this off.

He aimed a grin at his own Spock, but that Spock still had questions. "As you were upon the New Vulcan colony when last we made contact, I must assume that this device can travel through space as well as time?"

"On such a small scale," the older Spock replied, "we have been able to temporarily enlarge and stabilize temporal wormholes. But before you ask, the technique has not yet been refined enough to work on an object the size of a starship."

"How does it work?" asked the younger.

"It is a complex series of machinations and balances," the older told him. "If I were to begin to explain now, I expect that the basic explanation would take approximately two solar days, twenty hours, and seventeen minutes - and prompt many further questions from a mind as inquisitive as ours."

Jim should have expected this - now Spock looked intrigued. "You cannot simply introduce to us a device of such great scientific significance and not provide an explanation."

Fortunately for them all, the older Spock seemed more content to accept things as they were. "All will be explained," he said mildly, and glanced up. "In time."

As if he had expected it - and maybe he had - a second telephone booth fell out of the sky, landing right next to his own. The door opened, and...

"Hey, what the hell?" exclaimed the Jim Kirk who emerged, staring at the identical one who had been standing there talking to the two Spocks. "So this is how it happened..."

The first two Spocks, rather - because another stepped out of the booth behind the newcomer, also of an age with the Spock that belonged in their universe. The two young Spocks looked each other over curiously, and spoke in unison. "...Fascinating."

"This thing really works?" the original Jim mused. He was getting confused, but there was really only one explanation for this, wasn't there?

"Sure does! James T. Kirk," the other proclaimed, "you are about to go on the ride of your life. Forget that thing with the Corvette when you were a kid, forget the space jump - compared to time travel, those were nothing."

"...You know about the Corvette?" That pretty much proved it, didn't it...?

Spock, however, didn't seem to be convinced so easily. "If you are myself from the near future," he asked his counterpart, "what number am I thinking of at this moment?"

His counterpart spoke without hesitation. "Pi, calculated to the seventy-seventh decimal point."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Very impressive."

"It would seem that you have found the device useful?" the older Spock inquired.

The two Jims had been so busy staring at each other that the newcomer apparently hadn't realized who else was there until he spoke. "Spock!" he exclaimed. All three of them looked in his direction, and he sheepishly clarified. "Uh, future Spock, I mean. Listen, you have no idea how much this has helped us out. I owe you, big time."

"This endeavor is not without benefit to myself, Jim," the older Spock replied. "You owe me nothing. I trust you have experienced no problems?"

"Nothing too serious," the new Jim assured him. "Though there's one little thing..." He gestured for the older Spock to follow him, and his Spock did as well as they lowered their voices, stepping away for a moment.

"Captain - although these events do appear to be indicative of authentic time travel," the original Spock remarked to the original Jim, lowering his voice as well, "I must state that I am not without reservations. Nero's intrusion into the past created a paradox, which resulted in an alternate universe, in which we reside. Any instance of travel backwards in time may result in a similar paradox - and while we were intending to do so aboard the Enterprise, keeping a safe distance and utilizing our deflector dish to evade notice, making use of a _small_ time travel device such as this one negates our ability to avoid interaction with the past on a personal, intimate level during observation."

He had a point. Jim frowned thoughtfully. "Well, I don't think our universe is so bad, even if it did change..."

"It is also possible," Spock added, "that a simple error could result in us never having been born - which would result in us not traveling back in time and accidentally preventing our birth, and so forth. Under these circumstances, time itself may suffer, and even begin to disappear."

That... was a little more serious. "I think time's tougher than that, don't you? I mean, it's a universal constant."

"Perhaps it is not," Spock suggested. "As of yet, the Federation and its allies have explored only a small fraction of the universe - and there are in fact places in which time passes slower or faster than what we consider to be the normal passage of time."

"Spock." It was the other younger Spock who raised his voice to speak - and since he was standing with the older, there was only one Spock remaining for him to address. "Do not neglect to synchronize your chronometer."

The Spock he was addressing looked thoughtful, but nodded, taking the device from his pocket to do so. "So does that mean you're willing to come?" Jim asked hopefully.

"I suspect," Spock replied, "that if I were to leave you on your own to carelessly explore the possibilities raised by this device, the odds of time inadvertently being damaged by the incursion would be tripled at the least."

"Awesome - so you _are_ coming with me." Jim couldn't be insulted - he knew Spock was probably right.

"See you guys later!" the other Jim called, as he and his Spock headed back towards their telephone booth. "And hey, Jim? Keep an eye on Edith Keeler for me."

"...Who?" Jim had never heard that name before in his life.

"You'll see!" the other Jim said with a bright smile.

The older Spock caught that Jim's arm abruptly, turning him away to speak quietly. "It would appear," said the younger Spock as he watched, "that in the absence of a paradox of our own making, we shall indeed see ourselves again, as we are seeing ourselves now."

"...So why aren't we leaving again now?" Jim asked, puzzled. "The other us, that is."

"I suppose," Spock said, "that we will find out when we are that us, and not this us."

This was kind of making Jim's head hurt. "So, uh, let's get started," he said, brushing off the confusion and starting towards the first of the telephone booths. Time travel was bound to have that effect on a guy. "How do we do this?" he pondered aloud, looking over the interior. There was that boxy thing with buttons, and an instructional book, or something. There were no instructions when Jim opened it, though - just lists of names, stardates, and numbers...

There was a whooshing noise, a crackle of electricity, as the other booth departed. "Now, I will explain. As the device is fashioned after a 20th century telephone booth," the older Spock began, stepping towards them once more, "the interface is quite similar. This yellow-bound book contains codes for many different times, places, and personages of historical significance. You simply enter the code by pressing the numbers on this device, and the machine will handle the rest."

"Okay, sounds easy enough." Jim watched the older Spock press the buttons for one of the numbers on the page where he'd stopped, and followed him in at his beckoning gesture.

"I am curious," the younger Spock remarked, joining them. "Why is the device fashioned after a 20th century telephone booth?"

"When time traveling," the older replied, hanging up the earpiece, "it is preferable to be inconspicuous. And in my experience with time travel, 20th century Earth seems to be a particularly popular destination - this booth will not appear to onlookers as obvious future technology."

"You've been to 20th century Earth?" Jim asked, warily watching the lights flash.

"Several times. And in a few moments," he added, pulling the door closed, "you will have been there too."

There was a flash, and then everything seemed to fall out from beneath them.

"Whoa," Jim murmured in awe. Outside the booth, lights and objects seemed to zoom by even more quickly than warp speed, or maybe it only seemed that way because they were in such a comparatively small craft. He couldn't make sense of anything out there - long expanses of emptiness, crackles of electricity-

"Electrical storms in space?" the younger Spock observed, at approximately the same time Jim recognized what he was seeing.

"Indeed - we have harnessed the same anomalies that chanced to allow myself and Nero passage into the past," said the older Spock. "They are now tightly controlled by manual configuration."

"And these tunnels..." Jim gestured at the only objects outside the booth that were large enough to be visible at such high speeds: corridors that looked like tubes, impossibly vast and writhing, occasionally intersecting. The booth appeared to be following the only one that was fixed, rather than undulating randomly. "These are wormholes?"

"That is correct," Spock replied. "The one through which we travel has had its ends fixed temporarily; it will continue its natural evolution once this device has emerged, ceasing its interference."

"Fascinating," his younger counterpart murmured. "I would very much like to see how this was managed."

"For the moment, our time must be spent on other pursuits," the elder reminded him. "Or rather - our pursuits must be spent on other times."

The tunnel they were shooting through seemed to be widening, and almost before Jim had had the chance to notice, he saw a glimpse of a deep blue through what must have been the end.

With another crackle of electricity and a wobble, the booth settled down in something that was recognizably _normal_. No more speed, no more temporal tunnels, just blue skies and solid ground.

Except that it wasn't ground, Jim realized as the older Spock opened the booth's door. They had landed on something gray, made of... Jim wasn't sure what it was made out of, metal and other materials, but they'd landed on what was either a very large ship or an artificial island, because when he stepped out and looked around, there was water in every direction he could see past the structures rising from the flat deck, no land in sight. "Where are we?"

The end of his question was nearly cut off by a growing roar; the blue sky above was cut into pieces by aircraft, spewing ugly trails of pollution in their wake as they zoomed past with a boom. There were more, similar aircraft parked off to one end of the flat gray expanse, some of which were beginning to move. There were people running everywhere, dressed in uniforms that looked military.

"It appears that we are on Earth - the South China Sea, west of the islands once known as the Philippines," the older Spock told him, looking at the page on the yellow-bound book. And then he paused. "...Terran year 1996 AD."

He sounded almost troubled, or as troubled as a Vulcan was likely to get. "1996..." Jim repeated, trying to remember. Obviously this was an important historical event, they were in the middle of a military operation - and there was an explosion in the water a short distance from the ship. Which seemed to imply...

"The Eugenics Wars of your late twentieth century," said the younger Spock.

"I would've gotten it in another couple of seconds," Jim retorted. "Okay, Eugenics Wars, 1996, South China Sea. If I remember right," he said, thinking back to history classes - they'd held his interest more than most, just because there was so much to explore and consider - "we're in the area controlled-"

"Khan Noonien Singh," intoned the older Spock seriously.

"Yeah, I was getting to that."

"Is behind you, and approaching with great speed," Spock continued, pointing.

Jim glanced over his shoulder. Spock was absolutely right - there was a man stalking towards them wearing a particularly important-looking uniform, flanked by others wearing uniforms only slightly less imposing. "... _Sweet_ ," he said emphatically. "He took over a war-torn region of the world and brought it to peace! Sure, he was a dictator, but as dictators go, he was-"

"We must leave at once," Spock told him, and actually grabbed Jim's arm, pulling him back into the booth.

"Wait, why?" Jim asked, as the younger Spock crowded back in with them. "I always thought it would be kinda cool to actually talk to the guy, he was a brilliant tactician..."

But Spock was already dialing another number. "Perhaps I should have overseen this directory myself," he was saying under his breath. "There are some destinations I would have omitted."

"Is not the point of this time-traveling to observe historical occurrences?" the younger Spock asked.

"Even so," the elder said grimly, as electricity lit up the edges of the booth.

Jim watched, uncertain if he was more confused or nervous, as the man he assumed to be Khan broke into a run, shouting something in a dialect Jim didn't understand - and the ship was rocked by an explosion, just before the booth dropped through the deck and into the temporal wormhole.

"Whew," said Jim. "That was interesting. So where are we headed now?"

"Back to your own time," the older Spock told him. "I should have taken more care in selecting an example." In the flashes of light from the timescape outside the booth, he still looked grim.

Jim didn't get it, and from the glance he exchanged with his own Spock, neither did he. "...Okay," he said with a shrug. The older Spock's judgment had always proven to be pretty good in the past, even when it seemed a little far-out.

The booth came to a halt just where they had departed from the starbase before, and when Jim and Spock stepped out, the older Spock did not. "Take care with your doings in the past," he advised them. "If you do not, you may find that the present you return to is not the day and age you are familiar with."

"We will attempt to leave little trace of our movements," the younger agreed.

The elderly Vulcan lifted his hand in the traditional gesture, and closed the door of the booth. Only a split second after it sank through the ground, it fell from the sky just above it, empty.

Jim grinned as he pulled the door open, reaching for the book. "So where do you want to go, Spock? Anything you've ever wanted to see, an era you've-"

A bright flash and a now-familiar crackling sound followed by a dull thud cut him off, and he and Spock peered around the side of the phone booth. Rather than the traveler Jim had expected, there was a man sprawled out on the ground, unconscious. But breathing, Jim quickly determined, as he and Spock knelt to have a better look at him.

"Fascinating," Spock said, intrigued.

Given what he was wearing, there was no mistaking the man's identity. "It's Khan!" Jim exclaimed. "How did he get here?"

"He was approaching the time travel device as it departed," Spock said thoughtfully. "We do not know how long the end of the temporal wormhole may remain fixed, but it stands to reason that he may have followed us in before it became unfixed."

"...Wow." The thought of a man from 20th century Earth going through that space - without the protection of their vehicle - was kind of unnerving. "I can't believe he survived."

"It is fortunate that he did," Spock pointed out, "seeing as he is an important historical figure. If he were to die prematurely due to our interference, Earth's history might have been rewritten."

"Yeah... no wait," Jim realized. "Spock, after the Eugenics Wars, there were a bunch of the overthrown rulers who just disappeared. No one ever found a trace of them again. ...I think Khan was one of them."

Spock looked down at the man. Though his expression remained blank, he was obviously thinking. "You believe that this is why Khan disappeared?"

"It's possible, isn't it?"

"I am not so sure." Spock sat back on his heels, considering. "If others also vanished, there may have been a more mundane reason."

"Or maybe the others had a mundane reason, and Khan didn't."

"It would be most logical to return him to the time and place from which he was taken," Spock stated.

"He disappeared shortly after our visit anyway," Jim pointed out. "He's not going to have much more effect on Earth's history anyway."

"To our knowledge, which is not absolute," Spock replied. "Besides, my counterpart seemed to believe that there was a good reason that he should be avoided. I am inclined to agree with him."

"It's hardly agreement when you're agreeing with _yourself_ ," Jim complained. "Anyway, if we _did_ take him back, after seeing what he's seen... might _that_ not cause a paradox?"

"Or if you are correct, and his disappearance was originally due to our interference, returning him might also cause a paradox," Spock acknowledged. "We have no way of knowing."

The two of them sat there for a moment, looking down at the strange man in his strange uniform. Already things had gotten confusing, Jim thought. But being a starship captain on missions to unexplored regions of the galaxy put him in confusing situations on a pretty regular basis. Often enough for him to have learned that sometimes it was best to just go by gut instinct, take care of the problem immediately at hand.

Having reminded himself of that, Jim pulled out his communicator. "Hey, Bones?"

"What's up, Jim?" came the reply. "Need a break from all the mathematics?"

"Uh, sort of," said Jim. "We've, uh, got a patient for you. Nothing serious, but I'd prefer it if _you_ handled it, and didn't let anyone else know..."

"A top secret patient that's nothing serious?" Bones asked. "Should I even ask?"

"Spock and I will explain when we get over there," Jim told him. "Just meet us in sickbay."

"Sure, I'll head right down."

"It would indeed be logical to treat him," Spock agreed, as Jim cut the communications. "Though perhaps not to the point of regaining consciousness, as it would give Khan a chance to learn more about our era, making it more difficult to return him to his own time without the potential for changes to occur."

"That's if we're going to take him back at all, and we still don't know whether or not it can happen," Jim reminded him, and switched channels. "Transporter room - we've got an injured man down here on the starbase. Can you beam him, myself, and Spock directly to sickbay?"

Bones showed up just after Jim and Spock had managed to get Khan onto one of the biobeds. "What the hell?" the doctor grumbled, even as he started up the scanner. "This guy isn't one of ours. And what's with his outfit?"

"Bones," Jim began, standing back to let him get to work. "Meet Khan Noonien Singh."

"Who?" Bones muttered, not even looking up.

"Didn't you have history classes in the south?" Jim asked him. Bones did seem to be thinking back now, and Jim urged him on. "Twentieth century, Eugenics Wars..."

Bones abruptly straightened up, looking down with incredulity at the man on his biobed, and then to Jim with the same expression. "Is this some kind of stupid prank? No," he corrected himself immediately, "even _you_ wouldn't knock a guy unconscious just to mess with me. Not to mention all this weird stuff going on in his biorhythms, and brain scans are showing abnormal levels of activity," he added, looking at the scanner's readout. "Jim, what is this? I could almost _believe_ this guy was genetically engineered."

"Because he is," Spock stated. "Dr. McCoy, this is indeed Khan Noonien Singh. To be brief about the matter, we have just achieved a method of transport into the past and back, and we inadvertently permitted him to follow us."

Bones turned his incredulous look on Spock. "I could imagine a ridiculous story like that from Jim - but you too, Spock? You're telling me you achieved time travel, and a historical figure just happened to follow you home?"

"Yeah," said Jim. "Can you keep an eye on him for us?"

"You've gotta be kidding me!"

"Look, you don't have to believe he's Khan Noonien Singh if you don't want to," Jim reasoned. "Just take care of him like you would any other patient, don't let anyone else know he's here, and don't let him run off on you or anything while we're gone."

"Well," Bones huffed, crossing his arms. "At least you're not asking me to feed and walk your stray."

"Feeding's a good idea, actually," Jim said. "But I wouldn't let him walk around."

"I am not certain whether his questions or the questions of others might be more dangerous," Spock agreed.

"Whatever," Bones told them, shaking his head. "I don't know what you two are trying to pull, but a patient's a patient. Fine, I'll keep an eye on him."

"Great, thanks! I knew we could count on you, Bones." Jim clapped him on the back. "If he wakes up, don't give him too much information about where and when we are until we get back."

"Wait a second," Bones said suddenly. "If this really is someone from the past, what are you planning on doing with him?"

"We're not sure yet," Jim replied. "We'll think about it, let you know when we get back."

"Jim..." Bones began, reproving.

"See you later!" Jim said cheerfully, turning to leave sickbay. "So..." he asked Spock. "Where do you want to go next?"

Spock eyed the sickbay doors as they slid closed behind them, and then the empty corridor in either direction. "I am beginning to have misgivings regarding our plans," Spock acknowledged. "We have traveled to the past for under one minute, and already may have caused a time paradox."

"Didn't the other you say that if we caused a time paradox, we'd come back to a different future?" Jim reminded him.

"Perhaps we did. Since returning, we have only borne witness to a very small portion of the universe," Spock pointed out.

"Which seems close enough that it doesn't seem worth worrying about," stated Jim. "Would it make you feel any better to take another look at how history unfolded?"

"I would not 'feel better'," Spock informed him. "But it does seem a logical course of action."

"Fine, let's find a terminal," Jim sighed.

Ten minutes later, having confirmed that Khan Noonien Singh and others had _still_ disappeared without a trace in the mid-1990s, Jim gave Spock a satisfied nod, having made a decision. "Now that that's straightened out," he said, "wanna play cowboys?"

Spock raised an eyebrow curiously. Jim grinned. They'd have to find a hat to camouflage those, and the ears...


	3. Chapter 3

The phone booth landed with a thud, kicking up the dust into a cloud that still swirled in the air when Jim pushed the door open. "Dodge City, 1878," he declared, stepping out and taking a deep breath and a good look around at the wooden buildings, painted signs, and dirt roads. He then made a face. "Right - they still used horses for transportation. Watch where you step, Spock."

Spock did so, glancing down warily as he exited the phone booth. He almost looked the part of a cowboy, Jim thought, with that hat they'd had made at the starbase's novelty shop. Well, he looked the part of a cowboy until he straightened, standing with his hands behind his back in his usual formal posture.

Jim supposed it was good enough. "So - that code said Doc Holliday would be around. Want to see if we can find him?"

"The point of this exercise _is_ to observe historical figures and occurrences," Spock agreed. "If I may ask, what is the historical significance of this doctor? I assume he must be responsible for some innovation in the medical field."

Jim grinned - and waved at a couple of guys walking past through the street as they gave the two of them funny looks. Better start moving, he decided; the phone booth didn't blend in very well. "Not quite the medical field, actually... I bet we'll find him in there," he finished, pointing to the saloon across the road.

The inside of the saloon was dim and noisy and only slightly less dusty than the outside, filled with patrons talking and laughing. None of them seemed to be paying much attention to Jim and Spock, which was just fine as far as Jim was concerned. They were only there to observe, and he gestured for Spock to sit down with him at an empty table against the wall, to do just that.

There was a group of men playing cards near the bar, Jim noticed, and a girl behind the bar, pouring drinks. A man sat at something that sounded like a piano, but Jim had never seen one that looked quite like that - essentially a wooden box that might fall apart at any second. "Good, most of them take their hats off in here," Jim murmured to Spock. "I was starting to wonder if my not wearing one would make me stand out."

"I would venture to say that we are conspicuous regardless," Spock replied. "There are no other males in this establishment who are wearing such bright colors."

He had a point. The women's dresses were pretty elaborate, but the men's clothing all seemed to be pretty drab. Jim frowned. "Should be okay, as long as we don't draw any attention to ourselves. Which means we shouldn't ask too many questions. Which is too bad, because I don't even know what Doc Holliday looks like."

"I believe that man with the mustache, on the right-hand side of the table," Spock said, with a subtle gesture, "may be the doctor you seek."

Jim peered at the man Spock indicated, one of those who was playing cards. "Why do you say that?"

"Because his companions have been calling him 'Doc'."

The man laughed, leaning back in his chair for a moment before he tossed his cards down, pushing a pile of coins at someone across the table. "He was a gambler," Jim said quietly. "So yeah, that really could be him. Doc Holliday..."

As they watched, one of the man's companions nudged him, pointing in the direction of Jim and Spock. "...Shit," Jim muttered, and sat up a little straighter as the man stood up. "Hope you can fake it."

"Fake what?" Spock inquired.

"Just follow my lead," Jim whispered, looking up to the man who was approaching. "Something we can do for you?" he asked.

"You can tell me where you two're from," he told them. "You don't look like you're from 'round here."

"I'm from Iowa. Name's Jim," Jim said, offering his hand. "And you are...?"

"Holliday. Everyone just calls me Doc," said the man, giving Jim's hand a firm shake. "Never met anyone from Iowa who dressed like you... how about you?" he asked, turning to Spock and holding out his hand.

Spock, of course, did not accept it. "I am Spock, from Vulcan."

Jim covered his face with his hand in disbelief as Doc cocked his head, somewhere between curious and offended. "Vulcan? Where's that?"

"Mexico," Jim spoke up, before Spock had a chance to answer. "We're on our way back."

"Ah, all right, that makes sense," Doc decided with a nod. "I hear they can dress pretty funny down there. Did you two boys want something from me? Couldn't help but notice you were lookin'."

"We were merely observing, thank you," Spock replied.

"To be honest..." Even if they were supposed to be keeping a low profile, Jim couldn't pass up an opportunity like this. "I hear you played a mean game of poker, Doc," Jim remarked, looking up at him with a measuring gaze. "Wouldn't mind trying my luck."

"'Played', huh...?" Doc gave him a smirk. "I'll have you know, I _still_ play a mean game of poker. Tell ya what, Jim - I'll deal you in, on one condition."

"What's that?"

"That your Mexican buddy joins us," Doc finished. "He looks like he's got a pretty good poker face under that hat of his."

Jim and Spock looked at each other. "Do I have a 'poker face', Jim?" Spock asked.

"Definitely."

"Curious," Spock mused, "as I have never played the game in question."

"Do you know how to play?" Jim asked him.

"I am aware of the basic rules and the relative strengths of the 'hands' one might acquire," Spock replied. "I am also aware, however, that traditionally there have been many regional rules."

"S'all right, we can just start ya off with the basics," said Doc. "How's that sound?"

"That sounds acceptable," Spock agreed, rising with Jim to follow Doc back to his table.

"Guys, I think we've got room for two more here," Doc addressed the gamblers. "This is Jim from Iowa, and... what was your name again?"

"Spock," Spock replied.

"Spock from Mexico."

One of the men looked up suspiciously, even as they scooted back to make room. "I been to Mexico. He don't look like no Mexican I ever seen."

"That is because I am from Vulcan," said Spock.

"Vulcan?" inquired the man.

"It's different from the rest of Mexico," Jim put in, before Spock could dig himself a deeper hole. "It's almost like it's a whole different world."

That seemed to satisfy the man, who nodded and handed the deck to Doc. "Spock here's a beginner, so we're startin' with just five card stud, nothin' wild," Doc stated, giving the deck a good shuffle and starting to deal. "Who's in?"

Each of the men pushed a coin to the center of the table. Again Jim and Spock exchanged glances, as Doc and the others looked to them, waiting. "Are you in, fellas?"

"Actually," Jim admitted sheepishly, "we forgot - we don't have any money." He'd completely forgotten they still used currency in the 19th century.

"Hard luck case, huh?" muttered Doc, and shoved a few coins in their direction. "Well, you can pay me back later, either with your winnings, or with a little work - I've got a few projects I'm workin' on."

"Your generosity is appreciated," Spock said. "However, we were not intending to stay in Dodge City for long."

"Won't get too far without any money," Doc pointed out. "Anyway, go ahead - I got the feeling you'll make it up to me one way or another."

Jim and Spock again exchanged glances. "Thanks," Jim said finally, accepting the coins and pushing one for each of them into the pile. Legend said Doc had a hot temper, so if they _didn't_ manage to win anything to pay him back with, things might get a little tricky... but on the other hand, they could always take off again if it got out of hand. Or he and Spock could always come back to the same day later and lend him a hand. ...He thought that would work, anyway.

Jim was pretty good at poker, though, and won the pot on the second game, giving them some room to breathe. Spock definitely had a poker face, but he was apparently incapable of bluffing; he folded nearly every time. Up until the sixth round, when he won with a full house - aces and jacks - by simply seeing everyone else's offers and not raising it a bit.

"Nice," Jim said with an appreciative nod, as Spock pulled his winnings towards them.

Others, however, were not quite so appreciative. "What's goin' on here, Doc?" one of the other men asked, suspicious. "What're you doin' with these two?"

"Jim wanted in, so I let him in," Doc said. "There a problem with that?"

"Damn right there's a problem!" exclaimed the man next to him. "I had an ace, and so did Pete!"

Jim gave Spock an incredulous look as everyone else around the table began arguing at once. "Hey, listen up!" Jim shouted at them, getting to his feet. "I don't know what happened with that last hand, but Spock's incapable of cheating," he stated. "If there's a fifth ace, someone else must have slipped it into the deck."

"Are you callin' _me_ a cheater?" asked the man who had spoken up about the aces, glaring at Jim.

"I am confused," Spock spoke up, before Jim could reply. "There are a limited number of aces that may be in play at once?"

"Four, one for each suit," Jim told him.

"Ah. I see," Spock said, pushing the pile of coins back to the center of the table. "Then I am in error. It seems that the gentleman across from the doctor has won."

"That's some error," Doc pointed out in warning tones.

Jim was a little confused too - he knew Spock wouldn't have cheated intentionally, but an extra ace appearing out of nowhere wasn't something he could have done by accident. "What do you mean, you're 'in error'?" he asked Spock.

"Apparently I do not yet understand the regional rules," Spock replied. "I had assumed that it must be customary in this area to occasionally keep back a particularly powerful card for use in a later hand. Perhaps you could clarify, as I observed you doing so earlier," Spock addressed the man to whom he had conceded the victory. "What, precisely, is the rule which governs keeping cards hidden on one's person?"

The man blinked in surprise, but resumed his poker face quickly, remaining calm under the gaze of everyone else at the table. "'Fraid I don't know what you're talkin' about."

"Search 'im," Doc said grimly. Immediately the two men next to the accused cheater started going through his pockets, pulling his jacket open. Three cards fell from his sleeve, another from beneath his hat.

"Well now..." Doc remarked with a dangerous smirk. "Looks like Lucky Pete just ran out o' luck."

Jim was getting the feeling that maybe they'd better get out of there. That feeling grew considerably stronger when the man called Lucky Pete made a grab for the pistol at his hip.

In mere seconds, the atmosphere in the saloon went from laidback to chaotic. Punches were being thrown, there was more than one gunshot fired, and since everyone was either diving for cover or attacking one another, it was impossible for Jim to see if anyone had been hit. "Great," he shouted to Spock over the noise, from under the table where Spock had yanked him down. "First we accidentally kidnap a historical figure, then we get one involved in a bar brawl."

"I admit that I am not sure what just happened," Spock shouted back, "but at this point, I believe it would be logical to withdraw."

"I'm with you," Jim agreed. The question was, how to get out of there without being hit by a bullet. Jim had a certain fondness for bar brawls, but not so much at a time in history where projectile-based firearms were still common.

Fortunately, Doc came to their rescue, ducking down behind the table with them. "You fellas okay?" he asked, reaching for his hat, which had fallen to the floor in all the commotion.

"Yeah, we're fine," Jim told him. "Sorry about this."

"Don't apologize for callin' out a cheater like Pete," Doc told him firmly. "He deserves what he gets. You boys need to get out of here, though."

"As do you," Spock said. "We do not wish harm to come to you because of this incident."

Doc nodded, fixing his gaze seriously on the two of them. "So we're goin' together?"

After a second, Jim smiled and gave him an answering nod. "And maybe the table too, straight out the door?"

"That's pretty close to what I had in mind," Doc told him, with a sidelong smirk of his own. "Think I like you kids."

Spock, of course, didn't have a clue what they were thinking of doing. Jim filled him in quickly, explaining the basic premise. Spock was a pretty good tactician, of course, even if he didn't have the intuition of an experienced brawler, so when Jim counted three, Spock reacted perfectly, lifting his side of the table to turn it over, using it as a battering ram headed straight for the exit while Doc fired his own pistol over the heads of the crowd to cover their exit.

Once the three of them were clear of the swinging doors, Jim and Spock dropped the table, but Doc kept his gun in hand, ushering them into the shadows between two buildings. "C'mon, I'll get you two somewhere safe for the rest of the day - you can take off by night."

"Actually," Jim said, "we were thinking we'd head out now. Thanks for the offer, though."

"It was quite... fascinating to meet you, doctor," Spock told him. "We apologize that we were unable to pay you back for your loan."

"Now _hold on_ a minute," Doc snapped. "If you two think you can just waltz into Dodge, expose a guy like Lucky Pete, and walk out of town without getting shot in the back, you're a couple of idiots."

"No, don't worry about us," Jim assured him, squeezing past him out of the alleyway and into the street. "We're going to be out of here before anyone misses us."

"Misses, yes - gets you square between the shoulderblades, no!" Doc followed them across the street, glancing over his shoulder at the saloon, where the brawl seemed to still be going strong. "Far as I can tell, you don't even have anywhere to be hiding a gun inside those fancy Mexican clothes of yours, and you'll stick out against the road like a bright blue an' yellow buffalo!"

"I was not aware that buffalo had once existed in such colors," Spock remarked to Jim.

"They don't!" Doc stopped short in his argument. "...What in blazes is that thing?"

They were approaching the phone booth, and Doc stared up at it in amazement. "It's our ride," Jim told him. "Don't worry about us - once we're in there, we're safe."

A bang sounded behind them, and something struck the brim of Spock's hat, knocking it askew. Jim turned to see one of the other poker players standing there, grinning, with a smoking gun. "Into the booth," Jim ordered Spock. "Doc, get out of here."

Doc, on the other hand, had turned and fired back. "You two can't hide in that!"

"Again, we appreciate your assistance," Spock told him, even as Jim shoved him inside, and he reached for the telephone. "But you must be concerned for your own safety now."

Another gunshot whizzed by, deflected off the corner of the booth, and Doc fired back. This wasn't a good situation, Jim acknowledged. Doc didn't look like he was going to leave them undefended, even if it meant standing there letting gamblers take potshots at him.

Jim made his decision quickly, and opened the door to the booth for just long enough to grab the back of Doc's jacket.

"I must question the wisdom of your decision," Spock said, over the gunslinger's swearing as he was pulled backwards into the booth.

"We'll bring him back when it's safe," Jim said. "Just finish dialing."

Regardless of whether he considered it logical or not, Spock obeyed. The gunman outside, and another two who had come running to join him, dropped their guns and shielded their eyes as electricity flashed around the outside of the booth. When they lowered their arms, nothing remained of the two strangers and Doc Holliday but a flickering square of light that lingered for just a moment longer.

\---

The next time the booth touched down, it did so with a softer sound. Reddish-colored sand drifted around the base of the booth, which immediately began to warm beneath the glare of the hot sun overhead. Although Jim had never been there before, he had a pretty good idea where they might be - especially when Spock opened the door and strode out into the sand immediately. "...Vulcan?" Jim asked, hesitant. It wasn't much of a surprise that given the chance to go back in time, Spock might want to visit his home planet again.

Spock turned and nodded. "Indeed it is. The dawn of the Time of Awakening."

"I won't pretend to know what that fella's on about," Doc muttered, gingerly stepping out of the booth as well, staggering a little as he had a good look around. "You mind tellin' me what all that was, and how we got to Mexico so fast?"

"Actually..." Jim supposed there was no good explanation for someone from 19th century Earth, someone who'd never visited other planets. He wasn't even sure whether or not they had known in the 19th century that there were other planets, and he knew for a fact that they hadn't known that any of them were inhabited.

All he could do was tell the truth. "Doc, this is going to be hard for you to believe," he began. "Spock and I are time travelers from the future. Spock's not from Mexico - he's from another planet. This is that other planet."

Doc just stared at him. "You're right - that _is_ hard for me to believe," he said dryly. "Want to give it another shot?"

"Okay." Spock was just standing there, gazing off into the distance, and there didn't seem to be anyone else around, so Jim tried a different tactic. "Spock and I are from the 23rd century, and we've come back to observe historical figures. I'm from Earth - like I said, from Iowa - but he was born on another world, orbiting a different sun. This is that world, and it's called Vulcan."

"...Uh huh." It didn't look like Doc believed him - but it didn't matter too much, Jim supposed, as long as they hadn't screwed anything up too badly by interfering. Not that they'd know if they had until they tried heading back to their own time.

Doc's mind seemed to be occupied with a different part of the puzzle, though. "Hold on a second," he said abruptly. "You two were observing _me_. Am I a historical figure?" He brightened. "I'm not a president, am I? Wyatt keeps discouragin' me from tryin' my hand at politics."

"Uh..."

Spock, as usual, was able to find better phrasing than Jim. "As we do not wish to change the course of your planet's history," he explained, returning to their side, "it would be in all of our best interests to say as little as possible. We will say only that you do have the capacity to make a name for yourself."

Doc was pleased enough with that answer. "Well, whattaya know...?"

With that out of the way, Jim decided he'd better ask. "Spock, you said we were in the Time of Awakening. If I'm remembering right, that's when they turned from emotions to logic, right?"

Spock nodded. "The progenitor of the ways of logic, Surak, lived during this period. I had not expected, however," he admitted, "to land so far from any known settlement. I estimate that we are one hundred and eighty-three kilometers from the nearest city large enough to have a name."

"Quite a walk," Jim noted, looking around as Spock went back into the booth to consult the directory. Mostly all he saw was red sand, and a few rock formations... with a hot sun beating down on them. Vulcan had slightly higher gravity, too, and already he was starting to feel worn out.

On the other hand, if the Earth had been destroyed, and he had a chance to visit it again, he'd have wanted to spend more than just a couple of minutes there. "Maybe we can try again later and find a better destination," he suggested to Spock.

Spock shook his head slowly, staring at the page. "It does say that this is where we will find Surak."

"You're sure you typed the right code?"

"I am sure," Spock replied. "Perhaps I should survey the area more thoroughly."

Jim nodded. "Okay, you do that. I think Doc and I will stay here with the booth - that sound good, Doc?"

"I still don't really know what's goin' on," Doc acknowledged. "But given the choice between walkin' around in all this, or sittin' still in the shade, I'll take the shade."

"Just yell if you need us," Jim told Spock, settling down against one side of the booth, in its shadow. He thought about reminding Spock to be careful what he told Surak, if he happened to find the guy. Then again, Spock didn't need that kind of reminder, and if Surak was responsible for Vulcan logic, then Jim expected any conversation they had would be pretty... logical.

"Oh, and Spock?" he added as an afterthought. Spock glanced back, pausing. "Might want to take off that hat."

Spock's eyes glanced upwards, and he nodded, tossing it to Jim. Come to think of it, that would give him a little more shade, and Jim decided to put it on himself.

Doc had decided to sit down right inside the booth, taking in the strangeness of it all and occasionally asking Jim questions. Jim tried to be vague on some of the specifics, and was disappointed that he had to give an honest answer when Doc finally asked if he had something really, really strong to drink.

"Before you head back to Dodge, though," Jim told him, "I can show you one of the benefits to interplanetary trade."

"Yeah?"

Jim smirked. "Saurian brandy."

"...Saurian?"

"Captain!" came a shout from beyond the rise of a dune. "I require your assistance, and that of the doctor."

Spock's voice - not emotional, per se, but certainly there was a sense of urgency. Jim rolled to his feet at once, never mind the heat. "Sounds like something's wrong," he told Doc, who had snapped to attention too, hand on his pistol. "Are you up to it?"

"I'll give it my best shot," said Doc. "An' my best shot's better than most."

Jim couldn't help but grin. Yes, he definitely liked this guy. He almost seemed kind of familiar, in a strange sort of way - Jim just couldn't put his finger on it.

Accustomed to varying planetary and artificial gravity, and having kept himself in pretty good shape besides, Jim crested the dune with Doc still trailing a little ways behind. He found Spock on his knees, helping a Vulcan man who had fallen to sit up. "So there _was_ somebody out here," Jim called, hurrying down the sandy slope as well as he could manage with the sand shifting under his feet. "What happened?"

"This," Spock informed Jim as he knelt on the other side of the man, "is Surak."

"This is Surak?" Jim repeated. The man was conscious, moving, but he looked like he'd been out there far too long, judging from how little strength he had. Plus, he was wearing rags. Jim would have expected someone as highly respected as Surak to be in a better position than this.

"I am," the man said weakly. "You have heard of me?"

"I am something of a disciple of your writings," Spock said - quite ambiguously, in Jim's opinion. Spock was great at being vague. "I had, in fact, come to seek you."

"How fortunate, that you should come to find me here and now," Surak remarked. "I had come to believe that the chances of my discovery were so slim as to be essentially nonexistent."

That _was_ a little fishy, Jim thought. Awfully convenient, that the booth would bring them to find him in the middle of nowhere, in bad shape. "What happened?" Jim asked. "What are you doing out here?"

"There are yet many who reject my theories," Surak explained, looking more closely at Jim. "...You are not Vulcan."

This time, Jim wasn't sure if _Vulcans_ knew about other worlds yet. "No... Spock, you want to explain?" He probably would have a better idea how to frame it.

"In a moment; currently, Surak's health is of more importance," Spock pointed out, as Doc approached, skidding down the dune. "Doctor, this man requires treatment for severe dehydration and exhaustion."

Doc just looked at him in disbelief. "Treatment for... I'm a dentist, not a physician," he snapped at Spock.

Spock raised an eyebrow. Jim _knew_ Doc reminded him of someone.

"What do you expect me to do anyway?" Doc continued. "Out here, without any equipment... What this man needs is a good tall glass of water and somewhere to cool off."

"Unfortunately," Surak pointed out, "there is neither water nor shelter to be found in this place."

"Then seriously, what are you doing here?" Jim asked again. "You said people rejected your theories..."

"Emotions drive them to cruelty," Surak said simply. "I was captured and left here to die because they fear that my teachings threaten their way of living. If they were to examine their fears from a rational standpoint, they would come to recognize that they only have need to fear my teachings if they believe there to be a steadfast truth within. If there is no truth, then it will be exposed as a lie. And if there is, indeed, a steadfast truth within, then there is little sense fighting it; it shall come, whether by my teaching or by that of one of my disciples." His eyes, somewhat dazed, wandered up to fall upon Spock. "Perhaps it shall be by your word."

Spock shook his head. "It shall be by yours."

"I have been too long in the desert already," Surak told him. "Even with assistance, I do not have the strength to survive the remainder of the journey; though to abandon my last slim chance at survival would be illogical."

"I agree," Spock said, "since you have only to reach the other side of this dune before you can be saved."

He looked at Jim, not quite questioning, but looking for approval. Jim had been thinking about chances and coincidences, and it sounded like Spock had been thinking the same way he had. Jim nodded. "All right... let's get you on your feet. We don't have far to go."

Doc started off ahead of them as Spock and Jim supported Surak, one on each side of the Vulcan, helping him to walk.


	4. Chapter 4

Jim hadn't actually meant to come back to 20th century Earth. He must have misdialed or something - but at least there was a mission nearby, a place for people who needed a bite to eat and a place to sleep. Doc had graciously loaned his own hat to disguise Surak's ears while they arranged for a room, and now the Vulcan philosopher was resting, after drinking a few glasses of water.

As for Jim and Spock, they were having dinner in a corner of the shelter's common hall - just a bit of bread and soup, but it was welcome. It had been a long day already.

"So you agree that we may have been destined to save Surak's life?" Spock asked. Both of them had been keeping their voices low, though no one sat near them.

"He didn't die at that point in the Vulcan history you were taught," Jim reasoned. "If we didn't save him, someone else did - and who else was there to save him?"

"Precisely," Spock agreed. "Perhaps history has already taken into account any disruptions we might cause in the past, as they have already happened. Unless our memories of history have changed with the disruption and consequent changes to the universe."

"Whoa, that's getting a little heavy," Jim said. "And that's not how it worked with Nero, and the other you."

"There is very little understood about time paradoxes and how they might affect a universe in which they occur," Spock pointed out. "To say conclusively that there is only a single type of effect would be premature."

"I guess," Jim murmured, his mind drifting back over the day's events. "...I guess that means we should just go ahead and take Khan back once we get home."

"I agree."

\---

Consciousness was returning, gradually, but he seemed to be lingering in a state between waking and sleeping. He could not quite see his surroundings, but he was capable of thinking, of remembering. Yet what he remembered must have been dreams, for they made no sense. Flashing lights, a vast emptiness filled with tunnels, through which he flew at unimaginable speed... It could not have happened, but it seemed as real as the smell of the sea and smoke that had mingled during the battle at sea, only moments before his memories told him that he had fallen into the tunnels.

He thought back to the battle, his last memory that could have been true. The battle had barely begun, when there was a report of an unidentified object on the deck of the carrier. No one had seen a craft go directly overhead, to have dropped it, and no one had seen it land; it was almost as if it had simply appeared. Even as they had contacted him to notify him, another report came, that there had been men inside, and they had emerged with no show of subterfuge.

He had gone to capture the intruders - and he shook his head fitfully, for that was where things began to turn strange. The device which had appeared on the deck appeared to be a telephone booth... and as he and his guards started toward it, what appeared to be an elderly man had reached out from within the telephone booth, pulling one of the younger men who had exited back inside. Lights had begun to flash, and although someone had shouted a warning, he'd shouted back that Dayspring would not let her generals sacrifice her soldiers in such a way. The woman was too cautious, too concerned with appearances to make use of suicide missions in her bids for further power. No, the device was some sort of transport, and he had no intention of letting the intruders escape.

But then their device seemed to plunge downward through the deck of the carrier, and he could not stop himself quickly enough to avoid falling into the hole it had left behind. Then had come the tunnels, the emptiness...

He was distracted from his attempted analysis by the sensation of someone close by, someone leaning over him. His eyes snapped open, and his hand instinctively found the throat of the man above him, holding but not yet crushing. No, first he required information. "Where am I?" he asked.

The man in his grip struggled briefly, but obviously recognized that his own power was inferior. Even so, the man showed no fear in his snarled response - not unexpectedly, in English. "That's a hell of a way to treat your doctor."

"You will tell me," he repeated. "Where am I?"

The man squirmed, but looked him straight in the eye with a challenging glare. "USS Enterprise, Starbase 31 spacedock, sickbay, with your hand around the neck of the doctor who's been treating you. Is this your way of saying thanks?"

"Who commands you?"

"I work under Captain James T. Kirk," the doctor replied. "And I'll be giving him an earful about sticking me with _you_. Now, are you finished? Because I've got my finger on the button that'll call the rest of the medical staff in here, and I'd bet I can press it faster than you can make me lose consciousness."

"...I see." There was no sense in continuing the line of questioning anyhow; all the names given were unfamiliar, and it had only just occurred to him that the doctor had the wrong sort of accent. "You are not Dayspring's."

The doctor shook his head, rubbing his neck a little as he was released. "I don't even know who that is. Or who _you_ are, for that matter. Would you try to kill me again if I asked your name?"

He was definitely not Dayspring's. The facility, as well, looked strange. And anyone who might seek his capture would surely have known his name... "I am Khan Noonien Singh."

"Right, that's what Jim said," the doctor muttered. "So he was either telling the truth, or you're in on it. And if this is some kind of prank, you went _way_ over the line," the doctor informed him.

If this was a prank, Khan acknowledged, then it was he who was the victim. But it could not be so innocent as a prank, if it had removed him from his ship. A trick, perhaps, of the enemy; even if the doctor seemed harmless enough, Khan had no recollection of how he had come to be in this place. "Tell me of the battle."

"What battle?"

Khan tensed, preparing to demand answers, but the doctor looked honestly confused. He could not be unaware of the fighting, however, unless Khan had somehow been taken a great distance from his ship. "Where am I?" he asked again.

"You're on the USS Enter-"

"Latitude and longitude," Khan interrupted.

The doctor frowned thoughtfully. "Latitude and longitude don't exactly have a lot of meaning all the way out here..." He paused, looking Khan over warily. "You really _are_ Khan Noonien Singh, aren't you?"

"I am."

For some reason, the doctor shook his head, exasperated. "How does Jim get himself into these things?"

"Jim?"

"The captain, the guy who brought you here. He's always been a magnet for trouble," the doctor stated, "and it looks like he brought in a big one this time."

Khan was beginning to get the distinct impression that whatever had happened to him, it may not have been intentionally malicious. "And you can tell me nothing of the battle's outcome?"

"No idea," said the doctor. "Look, I'm in the dark as much as you are about whatever happened to you. Jim just told me to make sure you were all right, and to keep an eye on you."

If what had happened had been neither intentional or malicious, and he was in as little danger here as it appeared... then perhaps Khan would try a different tactic. "I apologize for my earlier behavior," he told the doctor. "I was disoriented, and believed myself to have been captured by the enemy. But you are no enemy, are you?"

"I'm just here to fix people up when they need fixing," said the doctor with a wry smile.

"Clearly I have imposed upon you already more than I would have preferred," Khan acknowledged. "Yet I must ask one thing. Would you be able to assist me in returning to my ship?"

"Me, no." The doctor shook his head with a chuckle. "Once Jim and Spock get back from wherever they've gotten off to, though - they'll be able to sort this out. At least, they'd better be," the doctor added under his breath.

Khan nodded, and took a look around. There were many electronic devices he did not recognize, but he might learn what they were and how they functioned from observation. "Then I suppose that all I can do is wait," said Khan, giving the doctor a smile.

"Likewise." The doctor did not appear to be pleased about this, but he shrugged. "Want a bite to eat while we wait?"

\---

Despite Spock's concerns about the hygienic practices early in Earth's 20th century, especially at such an establishment as the mission, Jim thought the soup was excellent. Real ingredients, fresh vegetables - not the kind of thing you could get on a starship most of the time. He was sopping up the last of the broth with a nice, coarse piece of bread that was every bit as fresh, when a murmur began to go around the room. The man across from them at the table nudged his friend, pointing subtly at the front of the room, and Jim looked up to see a woman taking the platform, turning to face the assembled patrons.

"And now, as I'm sure someone out there has said," she said simply, "it's time to pay for the soup."

"This may provide a problem," Spock murmured, leaning closer to Jim.

"Naw, naw," said the man next to them, who overheard. "You don't have to pay. You just have to listen. Just that that's almost as bad when it comes to Miss Keeler here..."

Jim frowned. "Listening's not bad," he remarked. "Especially when the person doing the talking is putting food in your mouth." And cute. Which Ms. Keeler certainly was. And in fact, that name...

Spock apparently had had the same thought. "Captain - did you not tell yourself to 'keep an eye on' someone by the name of Edith Keeler?"

"That's what I thought I said," Jim murmured back. If this was her, he wouldn't mind keeping _both_ eyes on her.

"Now let's start by getting one thing straight," she began, matter-of-fact. "I'm not a do-gooder. If you're a bum - if you can't break off with the booze, or whatever it is that makes you a bad risk - then get out."

Jim grinned. A few years back, he would have been interested in seeing what she'd do with a guy like him. Now... well, he also had a lot of respect for women that didn't take any shit. Some of them had helped whip him into shape at the Academy. But he wasn't allowed to think of any of them as hot.

"Now I don't pretend to tell you how to find happiness and love, when every day is just a struggle to survive," the woman continued. "But I do insist that you _do_ survive - because the days and the years ahead are worth living for. One day, soon, man is going to be able to harness incredible energies, maybe even the atom."

Jim's grin grew wider. He'd spotted a man with a newspaper on the way in, and according to its date, they'd landed in 1930 - in the middle of what had been called the Great Depression. Atomic power was a ways off yet, but apparently this girl knew what was going on.

"Energies that could ultimately hurl us to other worlds," she continued, "in some sort of spaceship."

Spock gave Jim a surprised glance, and he gave it right back. Interplanetary space travel was still a century away, according to their history... but only according to _their_ history.

"And the men that reach out into space will be able to find ways to feed the hungry millions of the world, and to cure their diseases. They will be able to find a way to give each man hope, and a common future. And those are the days worth living for."

"Spock," Jim whispered. "It's like she's talking about us - the time we come from."

"The technologies she speaks of were already being theorized in the early 20th century," Spock told him. "It was perhaps inevitable, given your species' interest in scientific innovation, that the dreams dreamed by the idealists in your planet's past would eventually become reality. The only question was when."

"Even so..." Jim murmured, looking back to the woman at the front of the room. Attitude _and_ insight into the good things to come, the bright future ahead... "I like what I've seen of this girl," he told Spock. "Wouldn't mind keeping an eye on her for a little longer You mind?"

"This is hardly the time for romantic dalliance," Spock admonished him. "In more ways than one."

"Surak still needs rest before we can move on," Jim pointed out. "And the way she's talking about things that shouldn't have happened for awhile yet - maybe if I talk to her a little, I can find out whether or not we messed something up. After all, we didn't mean to come here, and I still don't know why we did. But I _did_ tell myself to keep an eye on her, right?"

Hesitantly, Spock nodded. "But do keep in mind, captain, that in this time, I believe that the majority of humans were somewhat more... uptight than you are, regarding physical affection."

Jim rolled his eyes. "I'm not trying to get her into bed, Spock - I just want to talk to her a little." Edith, if that was her, didn't seem the sort for a casual roll in the hay anyway.

"Very well," Spock agreed. "I will go to see how Surak's recovery has progressed while you do so."

To that end, Jim lingered as the mission's other guests shuffled out of the hall. Ms. Keeler was paying no mind to him, simply starting at one end of the room and starting to put the chairs up. That was a good way to start, Jim thought, and started to do likewise, starting at the next table over.

He'd just finished his first table when he looked up to find Ms. Keeler just behind him. "Thank you, but you don't have to do that," she told him. "Listening to what I had to say is all I ask in exchange for a meal."

"Yeah, so I gathered," he said, and after a moment's pause, moved on to the next table. "And that's why I'd like to do something more for you, if you'll let me."

She paused, looking him over critically. "You do realize this is a mission - I can hardly pay an able-bodied man what he'd be worth at the docks."

"You'd be surprised," Jim told her. "You said that listening pays for the soup. Well, you could always pay me by giving me a little more to listen to while I take care of this for you." He lifted another chair, setting it upside down on the table as he'd seen her do, and turned back to her. "How does that sound?"

"It sounds," she said, "like either I am taking advantage of your kindness, or you are motivated by something other than kindness."

"Maybe that's true," Jim said, giving her a little smile. "Maybe I'm motivated by genuine interest in what you have to say."

She followed him down the aisle between the tables. "...There's something very strange about you," she told him. "You don't seem like the kind of man we usually serve here. You don't need me to give you hope for the future."

"Not a bit," he admitted. "In fact, we seem to agree on the major points. I think you're absolutely right - Earth has a great future ahead of it. Once we harness the atom, and other powers, we'll go to other worlds, like you said... We'll meet other people from those worlds, exchange knowledge and culture and resources. People from all over the universe will be able to help each other."

She eyed him, almost suspiciously, and then leaned back against the table he'd already finished, watching him. "Perhaps rather than you listening to me, I should be listening to you."

"Or better yet," Jim suggested, "we can listen to each other."

She smiled, pleased. "If you've given your name, I clearly haven't been listening well enough to hear it."

"Jim Kirk," he told her. "And you're Ms. Keeler, right?"

"You can call me Edith."

\---

Surak, not unexpectedly, was still unconscious. The doctor - who was apparently not a doctor - was keeping an eye on him, and himself taking it easy after their excursion to Vulcan. Jim was still out in the common hall of the mission, talking to Ms. Keeler.

Which left Spock with very little to do, aside from hypothesizing.

If they had come to this time and place due to something they had done in the past, something they had changed, Jim's discussion with Ms. Keeler might help them to learn what it was. However, a more likely possibility was that Jim had simply misdialed. The yellow-bound book inside the phone booth might help Spock to determine whether or not the error was something they would need to address before they could return to their own time.

Spock realized quickly that he wasn't sure what the number to return to their time was - to his knowledge, there was no significant historical event occurring on Starbase 31 which he could use the index to find. However, upon opening the book, he found a page designated for such things as local emergency services and other important numbers. The majority of the page was left blank, but in the middle, in his own handwriting, a number was written which was simply labeled "HOME". Very thoughtful of his alternate universe counterpart to spell it out so clearly, Spock thought.

Tempted as he was to examine algorithms and determine whether or not there was a pattern to where a given number would take them, he flipped back to one of the indices, looking up entries for 20th century Earth. Sure enough, there was an entry for the Great Depression which bore a resemblance to the number at the front of the book.

They had done nothing wrong. That was a relief, Spock thought, though it rendered Jim's questioning of Ms. Keeler unnecessary. Jim had appeared to be looking forward to it, however, and as Surak was in no condition to travel further as of yet, there was no reason he should not enjoy himself.

Similarly, Spock could use the time to conduct some research. For instance, who was this Ms. Keeler, who had ideas well ahead of her time? If the booth had come to her, there was a good chance that she was of some historical importance, and yet Spock did not recognize the name.

Neither did the PADD he carried turn up any information about her. Separated from the ship's network, its libraries were not exhaustive by any means, but its independent archives were considerable - and nowhere among them was the woman they had met at the mission.

\---

Surak was still unconscious when Jim returned, early in the morning, exhausted but incredibly happy. Spock had arched an eyebrow at him, but Jim was telling him the truth when he said that all he and Edith had done was talk.

They'd talked for hours. Long after the chairs had been put up, and the floor swept, and the dishes done, they'd talked about the future. As far as Jim could tell from what she said about the current development of the things she spoke of, the past hadn't changed. It was just that she was intelligent, well-informed, and optimistic. She really believed that an era of peace and prosperity was coming, and how soon it came was only a matter of changing mankind's ways of thinking, one man at a time if necessary.

And she was intrigued enough by Jim's own thoughts on the matter - which weren't thoughts at all to him, just history - that she'd asked if he might like to accompany her to a movie that weekend. Jim had to turn her down, seeing as they weren't intending to stay that long, but he did tell her he'd be glad to help with dinner at the mission that night, if she needed a hand. It was people like her, Jim thought, that would bring about the kind of world he knew, and eventually the Federation.

It was unfortunate, but not really unexpected, when Jim found himself offering a bowl of soup to Spock that evening. "Although it is appreciated," Spock told him, "I have only come to inform you that Surak is capable of travel. We may leave at any time."

Jim hesitated. This wasn't much of a surprise, since Surak had been awake and feeling much better that morning. "Okay, that's good," he acknowledged. "But we don't _have_ to leave now, do we?"

"I would recommend returning to our own place soon," Spock replied, mindful that they were not alone. "Although it does not seem as though we have caused any disruption, the longer we stay, the higher the probability."

"And in a way, that could be a good thing," Jim said. "Listen, we saved Surak's life by being in the right place at the right time, and now his teachings will spread like they're supposed to. I've been thinking..." He leaned forward, over the counter, to speak more privately to Spock. "What if we're here because Edith needs my support? What if the future she believes in is only going to happen if she's encouraged, instead of mocked as an idealist? Maybe this is the right place and the right time too."

"I have looked into it," Spock told him quietly, showing him the PADD's status screen. "There is no record of an Edith Keeler in the rudimentary database. I can only assume that she was not intended to have a significant impact on Earth's history. She is simply a woman whose thinking is ahead of the times."

Jim hesitated. "Really?"

"Yes. I am of the opinion," Spock informed him, "that to avoid potential problems, we must leave as soon as possible."

"Certainly you can stay for dinner, at the least."

Jim looked over his shoulder with a start - Edith was standing right behind him, with a small, secretive smile. "Your friend, isn't he?" she asked. "He was sitting beside you at dinner last night - I remember the hat."

"Yeah, this is, uh, Spock." He couldn't think of a good pseudonym off the top of his head. At least Spock had put the PADD away quickly.

Not fast enough that she hadn't noticed. "I see you have an aptitude for machines, Mr. Spock..." She turned back to Jim. "Does he think like you and I, about the future?"

"I do, Ms. Keeler," Spock replied. "However, we must be on our way."

"Oh? And where will you be going?"

"Nowhere, just yet," Jim spoke up, reaching for a ladle again. "I did promise I'd help you with dinner." He gave Spock a look. "I did, Spock."

Spock nodded. "Very well, Captain. We will depart after dinner."

Edith gave Jim a curious look as Spock turned and left. "He's very... intense, your friend. And that machine of his... what was that?"

"...Let's just say it's something from the future you believe in," Jim told her. "But he's right - we really should be going."

"Why?" she asked. "He was talking about causing problems... You've caused me no trouble at all."

"It's a long story."

"I have time."

...And their own clock was still ticking. The overnight stay in the past was already kind of pushing it; Jim could see Spock's point. "Sorry, Edith," he said. "It's nothing you have to worry about - let's just say I've got time too. That's why we have to go."

She appeared puzzled. "I don't understand."

What Jim didn't understand was why this bothered him. He knew they had to return to their own time, and get everyone else back to theirs. It wasn't even like he and Edith were in any sort of a relationship - all they'd done was talk.

Even so, after dinner, he said a quick goodbye and headed outside with Spock at his side. "Surak and the doctor are waiting for us at the booth," Spock told him, as they started across the street, to the corner where the telephone booth had arrived. "And Captain," he added. "I do apologize if I disappointed you, with my information about Ms. Keeler."

"No, you didn't really," said Jim. He hadn't been disappointed by the idea that she wasn't vitally important to history or anything. He'd just been disappointed that he didn't have a valid reason to stick around and talk with her a little longer. "It doesn't matter if she's a historical figure or not - she's just... interesting."

The booth wasn't far, and he waved to Surak and Doc as they approached. "So, we're all ready to go?" he asked.

"Quite," Surak said. "I must express my gratitude for your assistance."

"Don't worry about it - we just did what any decent person would do," Jim told him, checking the book again as they stepped in. He didn't want to misdial again.

The electricity began to build around the booth's perimeter, and the rushing sound grew louder. But over it all, there was a shout. "Jim!"

Jim looked up to see Edith across the street, hurrying towards the booth, an expression of alarm on her face. "No, keep back," Jim shouted back. He didn't want her falling in after them like Khan had.

She paused at the curb, staring at them anxiously - and then there was a loud sound. Jim's head jerked to the right to see, and his eyes widened. "Edith, look-"

The booth's door opened, and Surak reached out, pulling Edith into the booth with them as they fell into the wormhole. Less than a second later, the bumper of the car that had just swerved and lost control in attempt not to hit the woman in the street instead struck the antenna, just before it disappeared into the pavement.


	5. Chapter 5

"Damn," Jim breathed, holding Edith tight as she buried her face in his shirt. "I owe you, Surak."

"You owe me nothing. I would not care to be responsible for the loss of a life, even accidentally," the Vulcan told him. "Furthermore, Spock has told me that Ms. Keeler is in part responsible for my recovery, as she oversees the mission in which we were housed."

"Well, doesn't matter. Thanks anyway." Jim stroked Edith's hair, looking down at her as she drew back, composing herself. "Are you okay?"

She began to nod, then her eyes focused on a point past his face. "Jim... where are we?"

She looked awestruck, not terrified. Jim counted that as another point in her favor. "The short answer is, we're in a wormhole. The long answer-"

"Captain," Spock spoke up.

He didn't need to say more. His meaning was clear enough, the way he was looking at Jim. Jim shook his head. "Spock, what else am I supposed to tell her but the truth? Edith," he began, turning to her again. "Remember how I said I was sure that in the future, people from all over the world, and even other worlds, would work together for peace and prosperity rather than war and greed? That's where we're going. Spock and I are _from_ that future." He looked at Doc, and at Surak. "I know that's hard to believe..."

"No," she said after a moment's hesitation. "I believe you. It was obvious from the beginning that you weren't like the men of my time. And then there was Spock, his machine. ...I do believe you."

"We didn't mean to get you involved," Jim told her. "So we'll get you back to where you belong - I promise."

She gave him a smile. "Good, because I have a lot of work to get done. But first..."

"I think we can show you around a little bit," Jim agreed. "I said _a little bit_ ," he added, as Spock shot him another meaningful look. A white light in the distance was growing brighter. "Think we're almost there, brace yourselves..."

As the booth landed with a dull thud, Jim immediately relaxed as he recognized the sights outside. Starship controls with officers manning them, the gigantic main screen...

It took him only a few moments longer to tense again. The main screen was showing a view of stars, which they were zooming past at warp speed. He didn't recognize the officers at the controls, who had turned to stare at him. The configuration of the terminals, though they seemed to be displaying similar information, was different from that of the Enterprise - which should be docked, not moving.

"This is not the Enterprise," Spock observed.

"I noticed," Jim replied.

"Should we be gettin' worried about now?" Doc asked. Jim sincerely hoped he didn't decide to show off his pistol.

"I do not think so," Spock said. "This appears to be nothing but a slight miscalculation."

"Yeah." Jim motioned at the officers outside, who were staring at them. "The uniforms are different, but they've got Starfleet insignia."

Before he could get around to wondering aloud if they'd changed their universe after all, a loud, commanding voice boomed off to his side. "Please step outside the device, and introduce yourselves. We mean you no harm."

"It's okay," Jim told the others, though he wasn't absolutely positive of that. They could have messed up their universe in any number of ways, but it seemed unlikely that other Starfleet officers would cause them any problems. "They're telling the truth."

"Captain," Spock spoke up quietly.

Jim met his eyes, and once again, Spock needed to say nothing more. And neither did Jim. "You're right," he said. "I'm the captain." And with that, he slid the door open and stepped out onto the bridge of the unfamiliar starship - and did a double-take at the Klingon wearing a gold uniform, standing right behind a human. But the Klingon was wearing a badge too, and seemed to be showing deference to the human in red.

The captain of this ship - or that's who Jim assumed he was, though there was no rank braid on his sleeves - was an older man, bald, but still had an incredibly powerful presence about him. A old-fashioned sort of military man, Jim thought. And plenty observant, because upon looking Jim over, his eyes focused on the badge, and then at the cuffs of Jim's sleeves. "Name and rank," the man said curiously.

"James T. Kirk, sir - captain of the USS Enterprise," Jim replied. "We seem to have had some kind of a mishap. Mind if I ask where we are, and with whom I'm speaking?"

The man gave him an even more wary look. "...It would seem that we have something in common, Captain."

"A man named James Kirk was the captain of the Enterprise over a century ago," spoke up a very pale man, one of those at the controls.

"Yes, Data, I am aware of that," said the captain.

"He had never been confirmed dead," the pale man continued, "but at the time of his loss, he was a much greater age than this man appears to be now. However, he was noteworthy for several instances of time travel during his career."

The last part had some interesting information in it, but then the first part really hit Jim. "A century ago...?" he repeated incredulously. "What's the stardate?"

"The stardate is 45658.7."

"Fascinating," Spock murmured behind him, stepping halfway out of the booth for a look around.

"Captain, he is telling the truth," said a dark-haired, strangely accented woman, seated in a chair beside what must have been the captain's. "He is James Kirk, or believes that he is."

The captain surveyed him with an almost wondering look, and then his eyes fell upon Spock. "...No, this _is_ Kirk," he confirmed. "Because this is Kirk's first officer, Mr. Spock."

"Will we meet, sir?" Spock inquired, obviously already having determined what this all meant.

"Indeed we shall," said the captain with a bemused little smile. "It's an honor to speak with both of you. I'm Jean-Luc Picard, also captain of the USS Enterprise."

Jim couldn't help but smile himself. "It's an honor to meet you too, sir," he said, shaking Picard's hand. "I'm glad to see she's been taken care of."

Once he and Spock had been introduced to the bridge crew, and shaken a few hands - or in Spock's case, exchanged a nod and that Vulcan hand sign - Jim supposed they'd better get back to where they belonged. "We need to head off to our own time now," he acknowledged. "There's an starship back there waiting for me."

"I suppose there is," said Picard, with the hint of a smirk. "I hope that this glimpse of her future was to your liking."

"Absolutely." Except for the part where there was a Klingon on the bridge, which still kind of creeped Jim out. Especially because the guy didn't smile even a little during everyone's friendly exchanges of greetings. "Well - I guess we'll be seeing you. Or at least Spock will," he amended. "But I'll give it a shot."

"Very well," said Picard, stepping back from the booth as they entered it. "May your journey be a pleasant one."

"Yours too," Jim told him, sliding the door closed and reaching for the phone.

Spock's hand was already on it. "Twice now, when you have dialed, we have not reached the intended destination," Spock observed. "I think it most logical for me to attempt it."

"Hey, I did get us to the Old West," Jim pointed out, but he was in too good a mood to be especially offended. So in the future, they'd still remember him, and he'd be known for this time-traveling stuff. The other Spock had been right. And come to think of it, he'd have to tell the other Spock that he'd met someone who knew him.

"So this means that in your future," Surak observed, " _you_ are historical figures whom time travelers might wish to observe."

"Guess we are..." Jim mused.

"Well, if _I'm_ gonna make it to that kind o' status, can't be that hard," Doc reasoned as Spock hung up the phone.

"Gee, thanks," Jim chuckled, smiling down at Edith. The booth was getting kind of crowded, but he didn't mind if it gave him an excuse to be pressed up against her.

...He still wondered why, if she had so many ideas that were pretty much right in line with the philosophy of Earth in her future, Spock couldn't find any information at all about _her_ place in history. Maybe once they got back to the ship's computer, they'd be able to figure it out.

\---

Khan stared down at the objects on the plate before him. "What are these?" he inquired.

"Food," Dr. McCoy replied.

"This..." Khan picked up one of the odd, brightly colored shapes, gesturing meaningfully with it. "...is food?"

"Yes."

"But what _is_ it?"

"Look, we didn't expect to be stuck out here," said McCoy. "We're low on supplies - the replicators are all we've got."

"Replicators...?"

"If it makes you feel any better," the doctor continued, gesturing to the small box embedded in the wall, from whence the 'food' had come, "these things are designed to produce the highest nutritional value, gram for gram. They may not look all that appetizing, but they're better for you than _real_ food."

"Is that so..." Khan sniffed at the strange material. He was nearly certain now that no harm was intended to him, yet this so-called food looked like it should not be edible. He took an experimental bite, nonetheless. "It is bland," he said, "and lacking in texture."

"You're telling me," muttered the doctor. "unfortunately, if we want real food, we'd have to go over to the starbase."

"The... starbase?" This was the second time that the doctor had mentioned such a base. Khan wondered what precisely he meant.

"Yeah."

"It is a place we may go?"

The doctor gave him a sharp look. "I don't know if that's such a good idea - the captain doesn't want you out and walking around."

"Ah, I see." Khan sat back, folding his arms across his chest, giving the doctor a measuring look. "Then I am a prisoner after all."

"No, not a prisoner," the doctor said immediately. "Not exactly..."

Just as Khan had intended, he looked a bit unnerved. As well he should; he could tell at once that the doctor was not a match for him. "What then am I?" Khan inquired. "Am I a guest, perhaps?"

"...Yeah, something like that," McCoy agreed. "A guest - just an unexpected one, which we weren't exactly prepared for."

"That is hardly my fault."

"Nope." The doctor scowled faintly. "That would be Jim. As usual."

"Would it not be fitting, if I am a guest," Khan asked, "to provide me with more palatable food?"

"I would if I could, but we'd have to..." The doctor stopped, looking him over thoughtfully. No doubt taking in the hard look in his eyes, the flex of his shoulder muscles. "...You know what, we could head over to the starbase," he muttered. "Just let me get a uniform or something for you - you'd stick out like a sore thumb in that get-up."

A uniform, to help him blend in...? This was going even more splendidly than Khan had expected.

\---

They were in space - that much was for certain. The booth was floating around inside the chamber - which, fortunately, seemed to be pressurized. Still, there was a moment of panic at appearing inside an unfamiliar chamber with no artificial gravity field.

"We're floating..." Edith said in wonder, watching the fabric of her dress slowly rise up around her legs. "Are we in outer space?"

"This your ship?" Doc asked.

"No..." Jim said, looking around curiously. It didn't look right at all - some kind of airlock, he thought, but there were no digital panels. Everything was analog. Incredibly primitive. He dared to open the door of the booth - now the bottom of the booth, as the booth spun in a lazy circle. "Spock, where exactly did you send us?"

"I dialed the number that was labeled as 'home'," Spock replied. "Yet we do not seem to have reached our destination."

Jim pushed off the edge of the booth, going to one of the doors. Yeah, definitely an airlock. There were warnings all over the place, safeguards firmly in place...

And there was a hiss as the opposite door began to slide open. "Good luck, Captain Christopher," said someone outside, seemingly over a low-quality transmission.

Jim turned, and found himself face to face with a man wearing an old-fashioned spacesuit. Behind the faceplate, the man looked every bit as stunned. "What the hell?!"

Jim was pretty sure there was no good reply to that, all things considered. At least they weren't likely to blow them out the airlock when their captain was in there with them... "Wait," he said suddenly. "Captain Christopher?"

"Y-yes..."

"Captain _Shaun Geoffrey Christopher_?" Jim repeated. The patch on his spacesuit's sleeve confirmed it. "The Earth-to-Saturn mission!"

"Captain, what's going on out there?" came another transmission.

"I don't know _how_ ," Captain Christopher said, incredulous, "but we have intruders in the airlock."

"What?!"

"Human..." His voice trailed off as Surak peered out curiously. "...Or maybe not..."

Doc reached out to make a grab for his hat, which had floated right off the top of Surak's head.

"Take it easy, we come in peace," Jim told him in a rush. "I can explain."

"I would recommend _against_ explaining," Spock suggested, leaning out of the booth, which now appeared to be upside-down, to address the two of them.

"I disagree," said the captain, still obviously stunned, but pulling himself together. "Who are you? Where did you come from?"

"The future," Jim said, ignoring Spock's recommendation. In fact... he was starting to get an interesting idea. "You're famous there, you know."

That seemed to take Christopher by surprise. "The future..." he murmured. "That's impossible."

"You're a part of what made it possible," Jim told him. "The mission's a success, and Earth will go on to build better, faster spaceships, and eventually visit planets outside the solar system."

"Captain..." Spock warned him.

"Listen, Spock," Jim said, turning back towards Spock - who was right side up again. "I don't know why we haven't landed back in our time yet. Maybe there's something more we have to do, something we were supposed to do in the past. Like maybe the Earth-Saturn mission wouldn't have been a success unless we intervened. Maybe that's why we're here."

"Or maybe we are here because we've already intervened too much," Spock pointed out. "Perhaps our time, as we know it, no longer exists."

"No - we're going to unintended random points in our history," Jim stated. "We're not going to different versions of our future. There has to be some kind of pattern."

"Hold it," spoke up Captain Christopher. "If you guys are really from the future... I..." He paused. "I don't even know what to ask first."

"That's okay," Jim told him. "We can't exactly tell you a whole lot. We might mess something up. Time paradoxes, you know?"

"There is, however, one thing I believe the captain should be aware of," said Spock abruptly.

Jim turned back to look at him in surprise. "In order to test your hypothesis, I have done a scan of the area on my tricorder. I detected a flaw in Captain Christopher's spacesuit," Spock stated, floating out of the booth to Jim's side. He reached out to touch Christopher's shoulder. "Here - it appears that some small bit of debris may have impacted, and compromised the suit's integrity."

Christopher glanced down at his shoulder, and then back to Spock, whose hat had similarly floated away. "You're saying if I do my spacewalk in this, it could rupture?"

"Precisely. Or it might simply weaken further, causing a rupture during your next spacewalk."

Christopher stared down at his shoulder in shock. "...But we have to repair the circulation system if we want to reach Saturn alive. And one of our suits already malfunctioned - if we lose another, we won't have enough for us all when we reach Saturn."

"Which is why I believe the captain's theory may be correct," said Spock. "Perhaps we are here to assist you."

Jim grinned. "Welcome aboard, Captain Christopher," he told the man, guiding him towards the telephone booth.

"Captain Christopher!" came the transmission. "Captain, what are you... Captain!?"

A few moments later, all that remained in the airlock was a forgotten cowboy hat, drifting aimlessly.

\---

It was most definitely not any of the science labs aboard the Enterprise, though at least this time they could be sure it wasn't the Earth of their past; the technology was too highly advanced. Yet what seemed to be happening in the laboratory was something that had happened all too many times during Earth's history.

There was a humanoid, strapped to a table, screaming in such pain that he did not even take notice of the flashes of light and the unexpected object that had appeared. The grayish-skinned woman handling the instruments, however, dropped them in alarm, turning to face the newcomers in horror.

"We are on Tiburon," Spock remarked, checking his chronometer. "It would have been during your 10th century..."

Jim surveyed the room, and the man who had ceased his screaming as the woman turned away from him, and he made a quick decision. "Okay, I don't know what you think you're doing here," he said to the woman, "but you're coming with us."

He reached out and grabbed her wrist, as Spock dialed the number yet again.

\---

Men in ancient, Asian-styled armor were fighting all around them - until they realized that a strange device had landed in the midst of them. Both sides scrambled for cover.

Only one warrior remained, staring at the booth suspiciously. He advanced with caution, holding his spear at the ready.

"We appear to be in your 13th century," Spock said, oblivious as he examined the chronometer. "Somewhere near the Onon River in what would become Mongolia."

"That's nice," said Jim, eyeing the warrior outside, who was circling the booth. As an expert in hand-to-hand combat, Jim could tell from his mannerisms that the man was preparing to strike. "I think we'd better get out of here."

Before Spock could finish dialing, the man roared, about to charge. Edith gasped.

Doc simply opened the door, and Surak reached out, gripping the man at the junction of neck and shoulder. "Nice teamwork," Jim remarked, as the man collapsed.

"It would have been illogical to die in such a way," Surak reasoned, as he and Doc pulled the man into the booth with them. Spock hung up the phone.

\---

The location in which they next landed was far more civilized and pleasant than the last few. There were no battles, no shouting or screaming - they were simply inside a building.

"Earth once again," Spock said. "The 19th century, in the... District of Columbia."

"Well, that explains the decor," Jim said, looking around. Everything seemed pretty fancy.

"It's beautiful," Edith agreed. "But in Washington? I can't help but wonder - might the money have been better spent?"

"I can't help but wonder why we are here," Spock mused.

"Who is it?" called a voice from behind a door, which they had landed directly in front of. "I'll be with you in just a moment."

To their surprise, the door opened to reveal a man with a beard, wearing a top hat. "May I..." he began, but then faltered, taking in the motley crew that stood before him.

"...You know what, I just don't even care anymore," Jim said, and pulled Abraham Lincoln into the booth with them. "Let's go."

\---

It was a good thing that their experience with Khan had already shown them that they didn't need to be inside the booth while traveling the wormholes - because the booth had gone from crowded to overflowing some time ago. Doc was thoroughly enjoying the ride, much like Jim, and Jim had encouraged Edith to also stand up, riding the booth much in the same way one might have ridden a roller coaster in her century. It had only taken a short time for her to decide it was fun, and now she laughed, holding onto Jim as they shot through history. The future, she'd said, was even more exciting than she'd imagined. Lincoln was understandably wary, much like Christopher had been at first, but they were adjusting.

Spock and Surak were not nearly so excited, but had no qualms about riding in the same manner, as it was clearly safe. Jim's excitement was interrupted by Spock tapping him on the shoulder. "Captain," he shouted over the howl of the winds through the tunnels and the crackling of lightning. "I believe I have determined why we have been unable to return to our own time."

"Why's that?" Jim shouted back.

Spock pointed behind them, at what was generally the top of the booth. Jim leaned back to get a closer look, and immediately saw what Spock meant - one arm of the folding antenna was bent backwards, nearly broken off at one of the joints. The power that raced through the rest of the antenna fizzled there, letting sparks fly.

"Damn..." Jim breathed, before looking back up to Spock. "So this isn't some kind of greater plan? We're actually out of control?"

"It would appear so. I recommend that wherever we stop next, we should remain there while I attempt repairs."

Because they'd been really, really lucky so far to wind up only in places where they could survive. Jim turned his eyes forward again, and realized that yes - they really _were_ out of control. The wormholes in front of them, when they'd first set out, had been mostly straight and still; now their path was twisting as they passed, whipping around in front of them. Jim was horrified to realize in retrospect how poorly things could have turned out. "Do you think you can fix it?" he asked Spock.

"For the sake of our survival, and the continued wellbeing of the universe from which we originated," Spock said, "we may only hope that I can."

They'd find out soon; the wormhole in front of them was opening up. Jim's eyes widened as he realized what he was seeing through it - darkness, with millions of points of little white lights. He grabbed onto the side of the booth, bracing himself, and couldn't help an outburst as they approached their destination. "Oh shiiiiiiii-"

A blast of cold hit him, and the white points whirled about the booth as the jolt of arrival knocked him out of it, only to land in... something soft.

Jim stared up at his breath, visible above him, and at the snowflakes drifting down from the dark sky. If the wind hadn't been knocked out of him, he would have laughed.


	6. Chapter 6

McCoy didn't know what to do with Khan. Even the dinner they'd gotten at the starbase wasn't up to Khan's standards - he kept making little passive-aggressive comments about how where _he_ came from, the food had much more flavor, and you didn't have to add spice to everything to make it palatable. McCoy had done his best to explain that in their present location, it was difficult to acquire food that wasn't either replicated or shipped in from far away, but his patience was wearing thin. Especially since he couldn't just explain to Khan _why_ they didn't have herds and fields and so on. Khan wasn't supposed to know he'd traveled through time, and there _weren't_ any starbases, or even a Federation, back in the 20th century.

And then Khan had asked what they did for fun around there, so McCoy had taken him back to the Enterprise, to the rec room. Fortunately, he'd been given a little break from his babysitting by Chekov, of all people - Khan had expressed an interest in the three-dimensional chess set, and McCoy had no desire whatsoever to try to match wits with a genetically augmented human. The whiz kid, on the other hand, had no qualms even when McCoy pulled him aside for a second to explain who exactly it was that he was offering to play with. As was usually the case with Chekov, he thought Khan would be an interesting challenge.

As it turned out, he wasn't. Maybe McCoy should have gone ahead and played after all; he wasn't in the same class as Jim or Spock or Chekov when it came to chess, but Chekov _demolished_ the guy. McCoy didn't know if Khan just didn't have the aptitude, or if it was the fact he'd never played it in three dimensions before, or what was going on - but next to Chekov, Khan really kind of sucked.

"And zat is checkmate," Chekov said proudly, taking Khan's last rook with one of his own.

"It is not checkmate," Khan corrected him, reaching for his remaining knight. "I can take that rook."

"No, because your pawn is in ze way on ze second level," Chekov pointed out, replacing the knight in its previous location. "Your knight is trapped."

Khan stared at the board, examining each piece, tapping the squares with his fingers as he plotted potential moves. McCoy couldn't help but smirk. Amusement showed on the faces of the other officers who'd gathered around to watch, too.

It vanished when Khan abruptly swept his hand through the set, scattering the pieces across the table. "Chess is a noble game with a rich historical tradition," he stated. "Changing the rules in such a way, spreading it out over multiple boards - it diminishes the game of chess, reducing it to no more than yet another trendy form of amusement."

"If you like, we could play again, on an old-fashioned board," Chekov offered. "In Russia, chess is, as you have said, a noble tradition in any form."

"I do not wish to play with anyone who approaches the game so casually," said Khan dismissively.

Someone's a sore loser, McCoy thought to himself.

Chekov, on the other hand, quickly lost his friendly demeanor. "You are saying," he said, incredulous, "zat I do not take chess seriously?"

"You change the rules for your own amusement," Khan replied. "It is very much in keeping with the Russians with whom I have had dealings - when they cannot succeed through accepted methods, they simply decide that the rules do not apply."

"Are you saying..." Chekov's voice was low and dangerous. "...Zat Russians are cheaters?"

This conversation couldn't be headed anywhere good. McCoy clamped a hand down on Chekov's shoulder, silently telling him to let it drop. "I think that's enough chess for now. Maybe we should do something different."

"I will accept any challenge he has to offer," said Chekov, glaring at Khan.

"Likewise," Khan replied coolly.

So Khan was a sore loser, and Chekov wanted to challenge him again out of national pride. McCoy sighed, and tried to think of something he could suggest that would let Khan win fair and square - maybe that would put a stop to it.

\---

Jim's initial relief at having landed in a blizzard, rather than deep space, was short-lived. It was _freezing_ , and there were far too many of them to get inside the booth and close the doors against the wind.

Plus, one of them would have had to be out in the storm anyway, and that had to be Spock.

Upon landing, Spock had identified their surroundings as a distant planet, Sarpeidon, in the midst of an ice age thousands of years before the present-day civilization had colonized it. Having ensured that they would not encounter interference, he had made use of the rock formations that surrounded them to climb up on top of the booth, so that he could reach the antenna and try to force it back into position. Captain Christopher had attempted to help, since he'd had a toolkit on him when they'd encountered him in the airlock, but it wasn't long before the spacesuit he was wearing was made brittle by the cold and did rupture, just as Spock had suspected it might. He was forced to abandon his part in the effort, huddling together with the others at the base of a nearby cliff.

Spock was stronger and sturdier than a human, being Vulcan. He could endure the cold for longer than any of them, except for Surak - who didn't know a thing about modern technology, let alone future technology. He wasn't able to offer much assistance to Spock. As far as non-humans went, there was also the grayish-skinned woman who they'd identified as Zora, a scientist who had conducted terrible biological experiments on the Tiburonians, but Jim wasn't about to trust their safety to her. He wasn't too fond of having to huddle together with her, either. At least she seemed to be getting along okay with the Mongol, who they'd verified to be Genghis Khan when he woke up.

Next to Jim, curled up between him and Surak, Doc had another coughing fit. Jim really didn't like the sound of that cough, and he decided to get up, though it meant he had to remove Edith from his lap. "Sorry," he mumbled through lips nearly numb from the cold. "Gonna go check on Spock. Make sure Doc stays warm, okay?" She nodded, and shifted closer to the gunslinger, wrapping her arms around him.

Spock hardly looked up from his work as Jim approached. "How are we doing?" Jim called up to him.

"Progress is slow," Spock reported. "My hands have become somewhat unresponsive from the exposure."

He sounded kind of breathless, too, and Jim could see that the tips of his ears were white, slightly frosted. "Are you all right?"

"If any of us are to survive," Spock said, "I must repair the antenna."

Obviously Spock knew what he meant. Jim just sighed, and shivered. "Is there any way I can help?"

"I do not believe so - this is a delicate task, and more than one set of-" Spock stopped abruptly, interrupted by a sharp cracking sound. Both of them stared in shock at the damaged arm of the antenna, broken off in Spock's hand. "...In addition, it would seem that the cold has made the metal brittle," Spock observed.

"How screwed are we now?"

"There is a welding tool among Captain Christopher's set," said Spock. "This development should set us back by only fifteen minutes, at the most."

"That's good, at least," Jim muttered. He really, really didn't like the look of Spock's ears. "Are you sure you can keep it up that long?"

Spock did look down at him then, sober and serious. "I have no choice."

It was true. Jim tried to find something to say, something encouraging - but by the time he did so, Spock's eyes had moved on from him to something in the distance. "Captain," he said. "There is someone coming, and it is not one of our guests."

Jim turned to look - sure enough, there was a dark figure approaching, wrapped in heavy clothing that seemed to be appropriate for the weather. "I thought you said this planet hadn't been colonized yet."

"It hadn't."

"Then who is that?"

"Unknown, captain."

Spock paused in his work, watching with Jim as the figure drew nearer. Whoever it was, they were wrapped in a bundle of furs, moving easily but cautiously through the storm until they stood beside the booth, looking up from within their furs.

"Who are you?" said a hopeful woman's voice. "Are you prisoners too?"

"We are travelers," Spock replied, not the slightest bit taken aback by the question. "Our device has malfunctioned; we have paused to repair it."

"But... where have you traveled from?" she asked as she looked from Spock to Jim. Within the bundle of furs, Jim caught a glimpse of confused eyes. Confused, and really pretty. "I'm supposed to be alone - no one else is supposed to live at this time."

"Who are you," Spock asked her in return, "that you should be the only sentient being present?"

"My name is Zarabeth," she said, pulling the furs back from her face just slightly, enough for them to see her clearly. Humanoid, blonde... pretty hot, Jim thought. "When our sun died, my people traveled back to different points in our planet's history, escaping the calamity without a need to relocate." Her voice lowered sadly. "I was sent here... as punishment."

"Fascinating," Spock remarked. "We too have traveled through time to arrive at this place from thousands of years in the future."

"My name's Jim, this is Spock," Jim said quickly. His teeth were chattering again, and he was all too glad to let Spock do most of the talking.

"You're unprepared for this period of our planet's history," Zarabeth observed.

"We came here accidentally," Spock explained. "Once I have fixed this device, we and our companions shall return to our own time, if it is possible."

Her expression brightened. "You have a way to get home?"

"We will," Spock confirmed. "Once it has been repaired."

"That's... very fortunate," she said. "Is there something I can do to help?"

"Do you have knowledge of the time-travel devices of your own people?" Spock inquired.

She shook her head. "Not the technical details... I'm sorry."

"You know what you could do?" Jim said suddenly. "Keep him warm. You're wearing furs - do you have any more that he could borrow while he works on that antenna?"

"I do," Zarabeth realized, turning to Jim with a brilliant smile. "They're back at the cave where I live - it will take me a little while to bring them."

Jim wasn't sure they could wait for too long. That cough of Doc's was getting worse, Edith was in a dress, and even if Jim wasn't too thrilled about having Zora around, Jim didn't want to be responsible for the death of a prominent historical figure, no matter how unpleasant the tasks that had made them famous. "Actually, if it wouldn't put you out too much, could he just borrow yours till he's done?"

She shook her head, with a slightly sheepish smile. "To be honest, I'm wearing very little under my cloak. I wouldn't last long in this storm without it."

...Jim attempted to keep his thoughts from going too far down that path. Fortunately, the path diverted to something that was actually _useful_ before he managed to make himself turn back. "Okay, _here's_ an idea," he said cheerfully. "Why don't you climb up there with him, and wrap your cloak around both of you? He'll be able to work faster once he's warmed up a little."

"Yes, of course," she agreed, carefully climbing onto the rocks beside the booth, one hand clutching the furs around her.

Spock looked down at Jim, and raised one ice-encrusted eyebrow reprovingly. "...Captain..."

"You _will_ be done sooner if you're not stiffened up from the cold," Jim repeated. "It's logical."

"Lieutenant Uhura," Spock began.

"Is never going to hear a word of it," Jim assured him. "So relax, enjoy the warmth..." Zarabeth settled next to Spock, opening her cloak, and Jim couldn't help but stare a little. She really _wasn't_ wearing much under there. He shook his head to clear it. "...And me being incredibly jealous."

"We'll let you know when he's finished," Zarabeth told Jim.

"Awesome. Thanks, Zarabeth." And since this whole thing was for totally logical reasons... "Make sure you keep his hands warm, especially."

"I will," she assured him, reaching out to take one of Spock's hands between hers. "I know how hard it is to do intricate work with cold fingers."

"Captain," Spock repeated. He sounded somewhat plaintive.

"You know where I'll be," Jim told him cheerfully.

"Yes, I do," Spock replied flatly, attempting to ignore Zarabeth's arms wrapped around him.

\---

Khan Noonien Singh was supposed to have been not only a brilliant tactician, but a man of war. So all right, McCoy thought - maybe he wasn't so good at chess when they added another dimension. But some challenges were pretty straight-forward, depending more on the reflexes and judgment of the person rather than how fast one learned a new set of rules.

Thus, the training simulators.

Chekov was pretty good at the practice exercises, or so McCoy had heard. But he wasn't genetically modified for strength and speed and intelligence. Khan should be able to get the upper hand authentically this time, and maybe that would satisfy him. Of course, then McCoy would have to deal with a sulky Russian kid, but he could probably hand _him_ off to Sulu. In fact, McCoy decided to give Sulu a call while Chekov was setting up the sims.

The first contest was marksmanship; the object was to use the practice phasers to shoot down the red targets that appeared, while leaving the blue targets untouched. And just as he'd heard, Chekov was good, taking out ninety-three percent of the red without shooting a single one of the blue, even as the program progressed into the quickest dispersal.

Khan, on the other hand, had a great deal of trouble remembering not to shoot the blue targets, racking up penalty after penalty. And that hurt, since he was not as quick to fire at the red as Chekov.

Upon receiving their scores, Chekov stifled a laugh. Although it was good that he'd at least tried, McCoy really wished the kid hadn't reacted at all... because Khan was already looking pretty mad.

"It is entirely impossible that an enemy would provide so many targets, so small, all around a solitary fighter," Khan was declaring. "A true man of war would never allow himself to be cornered in such a way - he would always have a place to escape for cover."

"Mr. Khan," Chekov said, "you are what they call a wery sore loser."

"A gun is a cowardly weapon besides," Khan stated, tossing the practice weapon aside. "Those who are truly strong of heart would have the courage to fight hand-to-hand against their enemies, rather than striking at a distance. Tell me, do you men of this Enterprise still understand the use of proper weapons?"

"That depends on what qualifies a weapon as 'proper'," McCoy pointed out. "They can all kill people, though I wouldn't say that killing is 'proper' at all."

"I speak of staves, of swords-"

"What was that about swords?"

They turned to find Sulu approaching, and he gave them a cheerful wave. "Don't tell me someone other than me started a discussion of antique weaponry. They may not be as productive, Pavel, but you don't have much opportunity for style or finesse with a phaser."

"You," Khan declared, "appear to be the sort of man I might respect. Do you fight?"

Sulu looked a little surprised, but took it in stride. "You could say that. Interested in having a go?"

"Quite."

McCoy had a feeling this was a very bad idea. "Uh, how about the training sims, rather than fighting each other directly?" He didn't want Jim to come back to find that there had been a substitution in the Enterprise bridge crew - in place of Sulu, the headless helmsman.

Sulu had a favored program he loaded, similar to the phaser training program in that there were red and blue objects that appeared. He went first, demonstrating the ways in which the objects moved and attacked, how they could be repelled or destroyed with a swing of the sensor bar that stood in for a sword in the exercise. At the conclusion, he was breathing heavily, but he'd accomplished a perfect score. "Got it?" he asked Khan, handing him the sensor bar. "Or need me to show you again?"

"I understand the game," Khan said, and stepped forward into the training area.

Famous last words, McCoy thought, as Sulu started the program - and Khan was almost immediately overwhelmed.

"I will start over," he stated, when the program came to a halt, having utterly destroyed him. "I am not used to enemies which are completely silent."

Sulu did as he requested, with much the same result. "Again," Khan said, his voice rising. Sulu and McCoy exchanged dubious glances. "I am still growing accustomed to this... _thing_ ," Khan told them. "It has not the weight of a sword."

It took all of twenty seconds. "Again!" Khan snarled.

Chekov was unable to hold back a snicker, and Sulu too was having trouble not laughing. McCoy had to admit, watching the guy flipping out over a training exercise was kind of hilarious. "Amusing as this is to watch," he suggested, "let's get out of here."

"And just leave him?" Chekov asked.

"I think I know how to keep him occupied for awhile..." Sulu said with a sly grin, typing in a new set of parameters for the simulation.

"Again!" Khan demanded, as the holographic figures overwhelmed him.

This time, when the simulation got the upper hand, it didn't end; Khan was left attempting to fend off blow after blow, and failing miserably. Seeing that he was indeed being kept busy, the three officers quietly sneaked out of the simulator deck while he wasn't looking.

\---

All the most recent trips into the past, and that trip into the future, had been accidental, Jim acknowledged. That meant they hadn't needed to be there to save Captain Christopher, and they hadn't needed to be the ones to stop Zora's experiments, and... he'd never really figured out what they were supposed to be doing with Genghis Khan or President Lincoln to begin with. If they hadn't been sent to those times to do something, that meant that their actions might have screwed something up in the flow of time, rather than time self-correcting itself, using them as a tool.

But maybe the broken antenna was itself the way in which time had managed to self-correct, giving itself a reason to transport them to those times and places instead of back home like they'd intended. Maybe that antenna was _supposed_ to break, so that all of this would have happened. But then again, Jim wasn't convinced that the space-time continuum was _that_ self-aware.

It was almost a good thing that their travels had given them so much to think about in the ways of causation and paradoxes and the nature of time - it was something to take Jim's mind off how absolutely freezing he was. And not just him, but everyone else who was there, waiting for Spock to finish repairing the booth. He wasn't sure how long they'd been out there, or how cold it was, but he suspected that at least some of them were reaching the limit of their endurance. Initially he'd thought that the first thing they needed to do when the booth got fixed was to take everyone home immediately, but he'd changed his mind. First thing he was going to do once they made sure the Enterprise was still there was to take Doc to sickbay.

And everyone else, too - Jim hoped Spock's ears were okay. Uhura liked those little points, and she'd probably be pissed if they had to be amputated or something. Jim glanced over to Surak, wondering if his ears were all right... and realized they were still hidden under Doc's hat. Jim wondered where Spock's hat had gone.

But it wasn't long after he had that thought that he heard Spock's voice, addressing him. Jim shook his head wearily - he'd almost fallen asleep, and that wouldn't have been good. "What was that, Spock?" he asked, rubbing Edith's shoulders, trying to wake her up a little too.

"We're ready to attempt to return to our own time once more," Spock said. He was standing over the pile of them all huddled together, Jim could see now... standing in that formal way he had, with his hands behind his back. Zarabeth was just behind him, still huddled in her furs. "We may leave when everyone is ready."

"We're all more than ready," Jim said, shaking Captain Christopher a little. Surak was already rousing Lincoln, and Edith was getting to her feet. Genghis Khan jerked upright, pointing his spear at Jim's throat at the touch of his hand, but calmed quickly, helping Zora up. "How about you, Spock?" he asked, watching as Surak easily lifted Doc, who was either unconscious or barely conscious.

"I too am 'more than ready'," Spock said, with a sidelong glance at Zarabeth.

"I've been here more than long enough myself," Zarabeth said. "Is it... warm, where you're going?"

"That depends on-" Jim began, but Spock shook his head, interrupting.

"Zarabeth," Spock said. "We cannot take you with us."

Her face fell. "W... why can't you take me?"

"You are from our past; in the time to which we travel, you are a part of history," Spock explained. "Removing you from our history would change our past - which might have a detrimental effect on our present."

"Wait a sec," Jim put in. "Why can't we take her back with us?"

"From the beginning, we were not intending to permanently relocate any of these historical figures to our own time," Spock reminded him. "We were intending to return them to their own eras as soon as it was possible."

The historical figures were all standing there in the cold, shivering and watching, and waiting. Jim motioned towards the booth. "Go ahead, we'll catch up in a second," he told them, and then turned back to Spock. "...Spock, what if we met Zarabeth here for a reason?"

"I submit that we have not had a reason to appear in any of the last several eras," Spock replied. "I am uncertain of whether or not we have already irreparably harmed our own universe's history; I do not wish to disrupt it more."

"You can't just leave me here," she pleaded with him. "There's no way out for me, no escape - I'm going to live out the rest of my life and die here, alone!"

"From the perspective of Jim and I, and even the others who accompany us," said Spock, "you already have."

Her expression was stricken. Even Jim winced. "Spock, that was really harsh."

"But correct," Spock pointed out.

And that was the harshest part - he _was_ right. As he almost always was. Jim sighed. "Listen, Zarabeth," he said. "We're really grateful for your help. But unfortunately... it's like he said, the past you live in is already the past. Time's already made the decision for us. I'm sorry," he told her.

"...I as well," Spock spoke up after a moment. "I am grateful for the assistance you gave me. But we dare not remove you from your own time."

She bit her lip, and Jim thought she might cry. But instead, she took a deep breath. "...No, it's all right," she said. "I... I've always known there was no way to escape my fate. I can't go back the way I came - the way they sent us back in time alters our cellular structure, so we can't return. I just thought, when I found you... that maybe I had a chance. Maybe there was another way out."

Jim reached out, squeezing her shoulder. "I'm really sorry."

"It's all right," she insisted with a brave smile. Even so, her eyes were a little too bright. "Jim, Spock... I hope you make it to your own time safely."

"Thanks," Jim told her.

Spock nodded, and raised one stiff, pale hand. "Live long, Zarabeth, and - to the best of your ability - prosper."

The others had already squeezed inside the phone booth before Jim and Spock arrived. "I will dial the number again," Spock offered, reaching for the receiver. "I have it memorized."

"Okay." Jim squished in as well, and was almost too distracted to enjoy the fact that Edith was holding him there with her arms around him. "...Hey, Spock? Sometimes time travel really sucks."

"Indeed," Spock agreed.

\---

The antenna fix had worked - Jim could tell immediately. The wormholes were behaving like they used to, and when the booth came down, he recognized the surroundings. "Hey, it's Starbase 31!" he told Spock. "We made it!"

"Your declaration may be slightly premature, captain," Spock observed, pointing to a nearby object.

Jim stared at the second telephone booth, right beside theirs. "Hey, what the hell?" he exclaimed, opening the door and stepping out, coming face to face with himself and two other Spocks. "So this is how it happened..."

"Fascinating," proclaimed two Spocks in unison, as Spock exited the booth behind him.

Jim couldn't remember exactly what it was they had said before, but he supposed everything would work out if he just acted naturally. After all, it would have caused a paradox if they _hadn't_ appeared at this point in time. All the same, they were trying to get back in sync with their own time, rather than returning to their own very recent pasts, and so when the older Spock asked if there had been any problems, Jim decided to ignore the ones that they'd fixed on their own, and ask the most pressing current question.

"How come we wound up here?" he asked the older Spock, when they had put a short distance between them and the Jim and Spock of a day or so before. "Time's still running, isn't it? Shouldn't we have dropped back into our own timeline? Or are we supposed to just pick up here, just before we left?"

"I would recommend against it," the elder replied. "You might cause interference with your own doings, and thereby undo all you have done."

"Then how do we travel to what should be our present?" asked Spock.

"Did you synchronize your chronometer before setting out?" the elder asked.

"Yes."

"Then you must add the difference between that reading and the current reading to the number provided as your 'home' number," the elder explained.

"That is... logical," the younger acknowledged, and checked the chronometer.

"Hey," said Jim abruptly. "Didn't you have to remind yourself?"

"Oh, yes," Spock recalled, and raised his voice. "Spock. Do not neglect to synchronize your chronometer." The other young Spock nodded and began to do so.

"Okay, now that that's taken care of," Jim said. "Are we all set, then? I mean, it looks like our universe is still our universe, even though we..." The older Spock was watching him intently all of a sudden. "Well, we didn't _mean_ to get tangled up in any weird historical situations. It just sort of happened."

"I submit that since you are here," the elder said, "you must be able to untangle them."

Slowly, a smile spread across Jim's face. "...You know, you're right," he agreed. "It looks like history has a lot of confidence in us."

"As it should," said the elder.

It was nice, having someone who trusted his ability the way the older Spock did. Even Jim didn't really believe in himself that much, but Spock made him feel like he really was capable of getting things right. And if the universe considered him just as capable, that was a pretty big boost in his confidence.

"Thanks," Jim told the older Spock, and then turned back to their previous selves. "See you guys later!" he called. "And hey, Jim? Keep an eye on Edith Keeler for me."

"...Who?"

"You'll see!" he said with a bright smile.

All of a sudden, the older Spock had caught his arm, as he was about to head back to the booth. "You have met Edith Keeler?" he inquired.

"Yeah," Jim said. "Have you?"

"Yes, I have - long ago."

"It would have had to be." But it didn't make much sense - Spock wasn't old enough to have met Edith without time travel being involved. "Is she important or something?" Jim asked. "The other you couldn't find anything in the databases about her, so we figured she wasn't historically important."

"Did you influence her life in any way?" the older Spock asked.

"Well, we sort of... brought her with us," Jim admitted. "We figured if she didn't have much of an impact on history, then it was okay. Especially since she would have been killed if we hadn't done anything."

"She would have been killed?" the elder Spock repeated.

"She was standing in the street as the booth began to prepare for time travel," the younger explained. "A car would have struck her, had she not been pulled into the booth with us at the last moment."

Abruptly, the older Spock's eyes fell on Jim with a serious look - a look of what was, by Vulcan standards, great sorrow. "Jim... some of us have great destinies. Others have destinies far less enviable."

Jim didn't like the way he said that. "What do you mean?"

"Ms. Keeler could have been an individual instrumental in leading your people to a new era of peace and equality," the elder replied. "However, she was born too soon; the world was not prepared to recognize the wisdom she could offer. In order for your past to maintain its integrity, Ms. Keeler must die."

Jim didn't want to believe that. "...She has to die? Why?"

"Because she was, in your Earth's history, killed in a traffic accident before her message could be heard," the older Spock told him. "For her to live would mean the destruction of the time in which we live."

"So..." Jim couldn't help getting a little bit frustrated. "We need to take her back, and just... let her get killed in a senseless accident? Is that what you're saying?"

"Jim," the younger Spock spoke up. "Ms. Keeler has already been killed in a senseless accident, centuries ago. It is precisely the same dilemma we faced with Zarabeth."

Jim stared at _him_ in disbelief. Maybe he was right, but even if it _was_ the same - Edith was right there, in the booth behind them. She was alive, she was safe, and they could keep her that way.

The older Spock, on the other hand, seemed surprised by the younger Spock's words. "You have met Zarabeth? Of Sarpeidon?"

"Yes," replied the younger. "It would seem that time itself seems to have taken the opportunity to align our universes more closely."

"Indeed, so it has."

The two Spocks appeared thoughtful. As for Jim... he didn't want to think about it anymore. He knew what he had to do; he had since before they'd done it. "...All right, let's get going," he sighed. "We're here now - that proves that we haven't messed anything up yet. We'd better start putting everyone back where they belong before we _do_ mess something up. Right?" he asked the older Spock.

"That would be the logical thing to do," he agreed, though there was still something in his eyes, something that implied his attention was at least partially elsewhere.

But again, if Jim had to do it, he wanted to think about it as little as possible. "So first," he said, just to have it all laid out, "we'll head back to our present. I want Bones to have a look at Doc before we go - we don't want to dump him back in the 19th century only to have him die from having been exposed to that blizzard. Meanwhile everyone else can warm up a little, and we can grab Khan before we head out. How does that sound?"

"That is precisely the course of action I would have suggested," said the younger Spock.

"All right," Jim decided. "Then let's go. Thanks again for the loan," he added, turning back to the older Spock. He couldn't be quite as grateful as he might have been. "...Even if it's left us to deal with some really lousy choices, it's been an interesting experience."

"Unfortunately, a starship captain will always encounter difficult moral and ethical dilemmas in his work," the older Spock told him. "I apologize for having added to yours; however, I maintain that you and Spock _must_ remain as captain and first officer of the Enterprise."

And that was what the whole point had been in the first place, Jim remembered. Spock's belief in him - and in the two of them, as long as they remained together. He turned to his Spock, and managed a half-smile. "We'll do what we have to," he said. At least some of the choices they had to make were easy ones.


	7. Chapter 7

The next time they touched down, in the same place in the spaceport, they and their passengers were alone. Outside the dome, the sky was nearly as dark as it had been when they left, but there was a golden glow beginning to show at the horizon - which was the only reason Jim wasn't more concerned about the quiet and solitude. "Spock, please tell me it's quiet around here because it's early morning," he said as he squeezed past Spock, out of the booth, "not because we messed something up."

"I could not say with certainty that we have not 'messed something up'," Spock said, examining his chronometer, "but it is indeed early morning - 0626 hours. Thirty point seven two hours have elapsed for us since we departed, and we have arrived thirty point seven two hours after our departure."

"Jim?" asked Edith, who was still waiting inside the booth with the others. "Is it safe?"

"It looks like it," Jim told her. "Edith - everyone..." He gestured, inviting them out. "Welcome to the future."

It was interesting, watching the reactions as their passengers emerged from the booth. Wonder and awe were predominant, with the occasional suspicion and wariness - particularly from Genghis Khan and Zora, who hadn't quite been convinced that they weren't being held prisoner. Edith turned this way and that, staring in amazement at everything around her, and Captain Christopher was drawn to the wall of the dome not far off, placing his gloved hand upon it cautiously. Lincoln looked somewhat terrified at first, but understanding and curiosity began to dawn as he saw that they were indeed safe.

There were two, however, who had very little reaction at all to their new surroundings. Surak cast a mildly curious gaze around him as he stepped out of the booth, still holding Doc unconscious in his arms. "I assume there is a nearby medical facility," he said to Spock.

"There is," Spock replied, pulling his communicator from his pocket. "I shall contact the transporter room."

"Wait," Jim told him. Even if the excitement of the future had put the ordeal of being stuck in a blizzard behind for everyone but Doc and Surak, he still wanted everyone to get checked out. And that meant... "We can't leave everyone else to wander around out here unsupervised," he pointed out, "and there's probably no one in the transporter room at this hour anyway. Can you imagine the questions that would be asked if we called someone to the transporters at this hour, and asked to beam this many people aboard?"

"I see your point," Spock agreed, putting the communicator away. "What is your recommendation, captain?"

"We'll go aboard by shuttle," Jim said. "It's not far, and hardly anyone will be up to see us."

Spock nodded. "That would have been my recommendation as well."

As interested as everyone was in exploring, none of them had had time to wander off just yet, so it was simple enough to round them up, tell them where they were going, and keep an eye on them all as they headed towards the dock. Christopher looked up at the largest of the ships, visible just outside the transparent dome, with amazement. "Those ships will go to other solar systems?"

"They're already been to other solar systems," Jim chuckled. "We're fifty light years from Earth right now, in fact - and some of those ships came from even further away."

"So the light speed barrier's been broken," he realized. "Faster than light travel is possible?"

"Yeah, using warp technology," Jim began to explain, and then saw the look Spock was giving him. "...It's pretty complicated," he finished.

"And one of these ships is yours?" Edith asked.

"Yeah - well, not technically 'mine'," he clarified. "It's the ship that I was assigned to command, but Starfleet could take it back." As determined as he was not to let them.

"Which one is it?"

"Right there." He pointed. "The big one - that's the Enterprise."

"...And you fly around, exploring the whole universe in that ship..."

"Not the whole universe, but as much of it as we can manage." Her hand rested upon his arm, and he smiled at her. "What do you think of the future so far?"

"I think it's..." She paused, seeking the right word. "Fascinating."

"'Fascinating', huh?" He was going to have to keep her away from Spock. "All right, everyone into the shuttle," he told them, gesturing towards one of the smaller craft parked in the dock. "I'll take care of the permissions."

Lincoln was holding on for dear life as they took off, and Jim had to turn down Christopher's request to try flying it; kind of a pity, because having to tell a legendary astronaut, the captain of the Earth-Saturn mission, that he couldn't fly just seemed wrong. But Jim was distracted from his concerns about the other historical figures by Edith, and her wondering smile as he piloted the shuttle towards the Enterprise. She was quite literally seeing a dream come true...

And then they would have to take her back to a premature death, Jim recalled, and that pretty well destroyed his good mood. At least she was getting a chance to see her dream come true beforehand.

Once they were inside and the shuttle bay pressurized, Jim and Spock hurried them all on towards sickbay. No one was in the corridors yet, just as they'd expected, but it wouldn't be long until alpha shift.

To Jim's surprise, sickbay was empty too, aside from Dr. Sanchez. "Hey," Jim greeted him, a little confused - and he looked a little confused too. No wonder, with all of them showing up like that. "Where's Dr. McCoy?"

"He's scheduled to come in for alpha," said Sanchez, looking over the odd assortment of people, until he saw Doc, semi-conscious in Surak's arms. "Have we got a patient?"

"Yeah, D- Uh..." Jim probably shouldn't let on that they had brought a bunch of historical figures from the past. "It's a long story - everyone here was exposed to extreme cold for about an hour or so, and this guy was affected more than the rest, he got a bad cough for awhile, passed out... Not really sure why - Surak, let's get him up onto the biobed here." Jim hoped that Sanchez didn't know how significant that name was in Vulcan culture... Good thing it wasn't M'Benga, he supposed.

Once he was sure Doc was being taken care of, and orders dispersed to everyone else to let the medical staff look them over, Jim had another quick look around sickbay. Completely empty. Well, Spock could handle this, he thought, and started off towards Bones's quarters.

Bones was just getting his shirt on when Jim arrived. "Already got the call," he said, slightly muffled under the fabric until he pulled it down over his head. "Doesn't sound too dire, though how a bunch of people could wind up freezing half to death out here is beyond me."

"Long story," Jim said dismissively. "Bones, where's Khan?"

Bones hesitated. "You know, that's a good question."

"You don't know where Khan is?" Jim couldn't believe this. "How could you lose him?"

"It's not as if I lost him, exactly," Bones muttered. "More like I ditched him."

"You _ditched_ Khan Noonien Singh?" Jim repeated, incredulous.

Bones shrugged, starting towards his door. "He was a dick."

"That's just awesome, Bones," Jim said, following. "You ditched an infamous historical dictator - because he's a dick. I asked you to keep an eye on him!"

"And then you disappeared for a whole day," Bones grumbled. "It was either treat him like a prisoner, or treat him like a guest, and he's the most obnoxious guest you can imagine. So I said, screw it - if he's genetically altered to be superior, he doesn't need a babysitter."

"So instead," Jim observed, "you let a genetically altered superhuman with a tendency towards conquering every territory he sets foot in run around my ship unsupervised."

"If he caused any trouble, we'd know about it," Bones reasoned. "And honestly, after the way he behaved, I'd have _loved_ to see security take him down. So would Sulu and Chekov, I bet."

"Why do Sulu and Chekov even know he exists?"

Before Bones could answer, a perky voice spoke up. "There you are, Jim! The admiral's not too pleased with you and Spock right now..."

"Awesome," Jim exclaimed, turning to face Gaila as she fell into step with them. "That is _exactly_ what I needed right now - thanks _so much_ , Gaila."

"You don't have to get sarcastic," she told him, dropping the cheer for exasperation. "What did you expect, vanishing like that without any warning when you're captain of the flagship, and under review already? They wanted to mark you two as AWOL, and Chris has been working his cute little ass off trying to manage the situation. He's going to need an explanation from you, as soon as he's dressed."

"Let's hope he's getting into dress uniform then," Jim said, as the three of them entered the turbolift, "because it's going to be a while before I can talk to him. I have things to deal with first - important, captainy type things. Once it's all sorted out, Spock and I will be glad to explain everything."

"Uh, yeah, and about Spock..." She actually did sound reluctant this time, and Jim looked at her more seriously. "Like I said, they wanted to mark both of you as AWOL, and while they were looking for you, they contacted Spock's father at the colony... Ambassador Sarek's coming to bring him home."

"He can't do that!" Jim exclaimed. "Spock's my first officer!"

"They'd be sending you home too," Gaila informed him, "except that your mom was more interested in us finding you than what was going to happen to you after we found you. You're in _serious_ trouble, Jim."

"...And Spock's already as good as gone." He couldn't believe it. The turbolift arrived at sickbay, and he stepped out with them, wondering how he was going to explain this to Spock. Either of them. The older one had gone to all this trouble, and now, just because they'd taken the time to let Surak recover, and the booth had broken down, they were going to lose their positions...

...No they weren't, he decided. Or even if they did, they were going to go out with a bang.

"Spock," he said, seeing his first officer speaking with Surak on the far side of sickbay. "How's everyone doing?"

"No serious injury or illness has occurred," Spock reported. "Doctor Holliday suffers from a pre-existing condition which was in his time period incurable. In an attempt to maintain integrity in the timestream, it has not been cured, but simply treated."

"Good. Bones." Jim turned to the doctor. "You and your staff keep an eye on these guys."

Bones wasn't listening. "...What the hell have you two done, Jim?" he breathed, looking around his sickbay at the strangely-dressed people that filled it.

"Just keep an eye on them," Jim repeated, grabbing Bones's shoulder to get his attention. "Don't let anyone leave. Even if some of them are dicks," he added sternly. "Most of them aren't. Spock, come with me."

"Jim?" Edith spoke up, getting to her feet to approach him. "You sound so tense all of a sudden - what's wrong?"

He rested a hand on her shoulder, making himself take a deep breath and calm himself. "Something's come up - I have to go be the captain for awhile," he told her. "I may not be able to show you around the future after all."

"Obviously whatever's going on is important," she recognized. "It's all right. Is there something I can do to help you?"

"I don't know - if I think of something, I'll let you know," he said honestly. "In the meantime, stay here, help Bones out if he needs a hand." She nodded, and he paused. ...Ah, what the hell, he decided. She didn't have long left, and what time she did have might as well be happy, so he leaned in to kiss her quickly. "Edith... whatever happens, I'm glad we met," he told her.

She was stunned, surprised... but her surprise turned into a smile. "I know we've only known each other for a day... but already I can't imagine what my life would have been, had I not met you."

Jim nodded. She really couldn't. "...Okay, let's go find Khan," he said, waving Spock towards the door.

"Khan is missing?" Spock inquired, as they headed back towards the turbolift.

"Yeah, apparently he pissed off Bones pretty badly," Jim explained. "Enough that Bones took off and left him... somewhere. You know, I didn't think to ask, and I don't think it matters - Khan wouldn't just sit around and wait for someone to come take him where he's supposed to be."

"Indeed, history suggests that he would be more proactive than that," Spock agreed.

"But proactive how...?" Jim pondered aloud. "How are we supposed to find him on this great big ship?"

"Logically speaking, it would be advisable to consider the following question," Spock stated. "If we were Khan Noonien Singh, taken from a naval battlefield onto a Constitution-class starship such as the Enterprise, what would we be inclined to do?"

Jim _really_ didn't like the obvious answer to that question.

\---

The facility which he had been taken to was impressively large - Khan had recognized that from the beginning. Dining at the starbase had shown him that they were at a port of some kind, in outer space - and he had been taken aboard a spaceship. There were many possible theories that he had considered and discarded before he was able to determine the truth, gleaned from the same computer panel that had controlled the absurd games he'd played with the Russian boy and the swordsman. All it had taken was a simple query.

At first, of course, he had dismissed it as some sort of joke. It was not possible that he could have traveled through time, several centuries into the future. Yet the technology he had seen thus far was more advanced than any he had seen in his own era - and he had the brightest minds of his time under his employ, constantly inventing and innovating. It was true that there were spaceships in secret development, yes, but nothing on the scale of the ship he had been taken to - and none of his rivals could have built such a base as the one where they were docked, or amassed an entire fleet of spaceships so quickly. The only explanation that made sense was to take the computer's response at face value. He was in the future, aboard a spaceship.

The obvious followup to his initial query informed him that he had been unsuccessful in his further conquests - though not because his campaigns had failed, but because he had vanished without a trace, and was never seen again. His territories had fallen into the hands of others after his disappearance, and eventually the nations of the world had come to peace with one another.

An admirable feat, fair enough... but Khan had intended to bring it about by his own hand.

Khan spent the remainder of the day, and much of the night, reading through starmaps and technical manuals of the spaceship called Enterprise on another computer panel, somewhat more out of the way. No one who spotted him seemed to question his presence, as he was wearing one of their own uniforms. He hid himself more thoroughly when he'd stopped to rest for a few hours, knowing that he must be at his sharpest when he put his plan into action.

Since he had been robbed of his previous chance at ruling the world by these time travelers, he found it fitting that they provide him with a way to pick up where he had left off. It was only fair.

\---

Jim was sure that if Khan had been on the bridge, they'd know. It was still a relief to hear Cupcake's report that no suspicious persons had been anywhere near the bridge since they'd docked. Jim told him to post a couple extra just in case, and send a squad down to engineering, where he'd meet them outside the engine room. That was the other potentially _really_ bad place to have a notorious conqueror messing around, and he called to wake up Scotty from inside the turbolift.

"Good to see you back, Jim," Scotty greeted him blearily, "but maybe you could've come back just a few hours later? Your ship, she's ready to go, but me? Not so much, not after the late night."

Jim was distracted momentarily from his concerns. "New warp core's installed?"

"And all the preliminaries look good. Just have to take her out for a spin about the system, make sure it agrees with the ol' girl."

"Awesome. Scotty, you're great," Jim told him. "But I was calling about something else. In the last day or so, have you seen anyone unfamiliar in engineering? Especially, have you seen a guy in a weird uniform?"

Scotty paused, thinking. "Don't think I have. I've not been lettin' anyone I don't trust near the core while making the final adjustments, and my staff knows not to disturb me while I'm doin' delicate work. Except Keenser, but I don't expect you mean him."

"Nope." So if he'd been in engineering, Scotty hadn't seen him, but it sounded like Scotty had been preoccupied. "Listen, I know this is pretty early, but could you do me a favor and run a full set of diagnostics on all the different systems? Just to make sure nothing's been tampered with."

Scotty sounded far more awake all of a sudden. "Who'd've been tamperin' with the ship?"

"It's a long story," Jim told him. The turbolift had arrived at the main engineering deck, and he and Spock walked quickly down the corridor. "Maybe it's nothing at all, but just do it, just in case."

"Aye - and if anyone's been messin' around in there," Scotty suggested, "make sure you leave a little for me to kick around too."

"There may be plenty for everyone." Jim really hoped not. "Give me a call when you're done. Kirk out."

This early in the morning, while they were securely docked, engineering was empty. Jim motioned silently for Spock to check one way, while he checked the other - but it was indeed empty.

\---

"So all these people are from the past," McCoy remarked. "Including you."

Edith nodded. "That's right - at least, I believe so. We did stop in the future briefly, but only once, and no one joined us."

" _That's_ a relief, at least," McCoy muttered. "Imagine Jim _not_ screwing things up as much as possible, for a change. So the patient is..."

"Doc Holliday," she replied. "He was a gunslinger from the wild west. Next to him is Surak, a very important Vulcan philosopher - and there is Abraham Lincoln, one of our past presidents, speaking to Captain Christopher of the Earth-Saturn mission. It's too bad that I probably won't live to see it," she acknowledged, "as I was born a century too early."

"So you're from the early twentieth century, Ms. Keeler?"

"That's right..." Edith was suddenly glancing around, looking distracted. "...Doctor, we seem to be missing two of our time travelers."

"We are?" McCoy immediately went on alert. "I wouldn't know, I didn't get a chance to do a head count," he admitted, having a look inside the next wing. "Who's missing?"

\---

Although he had traveled centuries into the future, humanity had not physically advanced much, Khan thought. If he and the other augmented humans had been permitted to rule, their superior genetics would have made the race more powerful - but these humans of the future were as helpless before him as any ordinary person of the twentieth century.

Unfortunately, there were rather a lot of them so close to the bridge. Even he might become overwhelmed, especially as all of them were armed with the strange little energy guns favored in this time. Khan had considered taking one from an officer who had questioned his presence, now unconscious a few decks below, but he had a better advantage in hand-to-hand combat. One could only shoot a gun at one person at a time, and his opponents would have had the same weaponry.

There were six, he had observed, before ducking back into an adjoining corridor to consider his options. Two or three he might have been able to overwhelm before they could get a shot off - perhaps on a good day four - but six was likely too many.

He was still considering his options when he heard a scuffle of some sort, farther down the corridor. Had he been discovered, he wondered? If so, he did not intend to let them take him unaware, and so he started down the corridor, cautiously checking each cross-section before passing.

The sound had stopped before he found what had caused it; there were two more of the red-shirted officers lying either dead or unconscious in the middle of the hall. Just beginning to move onwards, in his direction, were a man and a woman, both dressed strangely, one quite possibly not human. They paused at the sight of him, but the man's face was set in determination, and he stepped forward, raising the spear he carried.

Khan made his decision quickly. "I am not your enemy," he told the man, holding up his hands in a show of peace. "As a matter of fact, it seems our enemy is a common one."

"You are not one of our captors?" the greyish-skinned, gaunt woman snarled, unconvinced.

"I am a captive, as it seems you are." Khan looked to the man. "If you would please put that away, I have a proposal for you. Assuming that you, like myself, are attempting escape."

"What sort of a proposal?" asked the man, who did in fact lower his spear.

"I have spent the night in preparation," Khan explained. "I can take control of this starship of theirs - if only I may reach the bridge. However, there are too many guards in the way."

"And if we help you, what would you do for us in return?" the man inquired.

Khan simply shrugged. "We three alone would be on the bridge; I could take you to anywhere you like."

\---

"Jim, I've got some bad news for you."

"More?" Jim groaned at Bones's voice over the communicator. "What now?"

"Two of your new friends seem to have flown the coop. So now there's _three_ important figures from history running around unattended."

"Great," Jim muttered. "Who is it?"

"According to Ms. Keeler, we're missing Genghis Khan and Zora."

"They never did trust that we had their best interests at heart," Spock observed, coming closer to join in the discussion. "It does not surprise me that they might have tried to leave the place where they were told to remain. They may have considered themselves prisoners."

"How long-" Jim began, but was cut off by another chirp from his communicator. "Bones, hang on a second, someone else is trying to call me - maybe they've found something."

"Kirk," came Pike's sternest voice, when Jim switched calls. "I want you down on the starbase, now."

"Sir, we're kind of busy right now," Jim tried to explain, but Pike wasn't having any of it.

"Just like you've been busy for the last day and a half? HQ's after your heads, and mine was starting to look pretty good to them too - I want some answers, Kirk. You and Spock meet me at the dock in ten minutes, or you're losing the Enterprise."

The call ended abruptly, and Jim was sure that his expression wasn't anywhere near as stoic as Spock's when their eyes met. "...Spock, they're going to take my _ship_."

"Not if we meet Admiral Pike at the dock in ten minutes," Spock said, quite calmly, "and explain the situation. At present, it does not appear that our wayward travelers are causing any trouble."

Jim relaxed slightly. As always, Spock's logic seemed sound. "Right. We explain what happened, and then we can go back to looking for Khan, Zora, and... uh, Khan."

"Precisely."

"In fact..." Something had just occurred to Jim, and he flipped back to Bones on the communicator. "Bones, is everybody who's there up and around?"

"Yeah, even Doc's looking pretty good," Bones replied.

"Awesome. Thank you," Jim told him. "Listen, I need you to take them to the transporters. Spock and I will meet you there, and we're going to beam down to the starbase."

"...All of you?"

"Yep," Jim said, with a grin as he looked up to Spock. "Admiral Pike wants to know what we've been up to? I'm going to show him."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Jim," came Bones's dubious reply.

"Look, this whole thing started when I opened my big mouth about Spock and I being able to achieve time travel," Jim pointed out. "Now that we've done it, why shouldn't we show him some proof? He can tell HQ about it himself, as an impartial observer. So we'll get Pike off our backs about the disappearance, _and_ give HQ something to chew on. Two birds with one stone. And then we'll go round up our runaways."

"That does seem... somewhat logical," Spock acknowledged.

"Sure is." Jim gave Spock another grin, and clapped him on the shoulder, heading for the turbolift. "We'll see you in the transporter room, Bones?"

"Guess you will," Bones sighed. "McCoy out."

\---

They got to the dock before Pike, which was good. They'd already decided not to mention the three missing persons just yet - though Lincoln had qualms about it, and Surak quite logically suggested that 'Honest Abe' should say nothing at all if the subject came up. Ideally, none of them should say much unless spoken to. Everything was arranged, everything was going to go just fine.

That was what they assumed, until Spock recognized a ship as it slowed to approach the dock. "...That is the Thol-hali - my father's usual transport vessel."

Jim swore emphatically under his breath - he'd forgotten to warn Spock. "Okay. Doesn't matter," he said after a moment. "Your father can only take you home if Starfleet lets him. And Starfleet isn't going to let him, after what we're going to show Pike. Got it?"

Spock nodded. "I do indeed."

They were still eyeing the docking ship warily when Admiral Pike appeared. He took a moment to look over the others present, in their unusual clothing, then looked back to Kirk and Spock. "...All right, I'll take the bait. What the hell is all this about?"

"Admiral, sir," Jim greeted him. "Spock and I have successfully achieved time travel, just as it was suggested to us."

Pike looked back at the others. "Are you kidding me?"

"We assure you, we are not kidding," Spock stated. "Joining us here today are Captain Shaun Geoffrey Christopher of the 21st century Earth-Saturn expedition; Abraham Lincoln, the 16th president of the United States of America, Earth; Doctor Holliday-"

"Better known as Doc Holliday," Jim interrupted.

"-a gunfighter of sorts from Earth's 19th century," Spock continued, "Surak, father of the Vulcan ideal of logic over emotion; and Edith Keeler, caretaker of a mission in the early 20th century."

Pike looked them over for a moment longer, then back to Jim and Spock. "You two really expect me to believe that?"

"We had hoped that you would," Spock replied.

"It's the truth," Jim added. "We could even take _you_ back in time, if you want to see for yourself."

"Is that where you've been since two nights ago?" Pike asked, skeptical. "The past?"

"Yeah. We didn't mean to be gone so long," Jim said, going into 'good student' mode, "but we ran into a couple problems. Even those mishaps taught us a lot, though. I've got all these theories now, based on observation, about the way time flows, and interacts with itself to avoid paradoxes - it's really..." Jim gestured vaguely, unable to think of a better word. "...Fascinating."

"I concur," Spock said.

"Well, that's nice," Pike said. "Unfortunately, we don't have time for you to prove any of this. For Spock, at least, time has run out."

At the gesture from Pike, they looked over their shoulders towards the large hangar, where the Thol-hali had settled. A lone figure strode from the hangar, dressed in the Vulcan style, in long ornate robes.

Jim wondered if Spock felt as panicked as he did, and just wasn't letting on. "Sir, please," he said, turning back to Pike. "We can prove it. I'll give you a full report, a demonstration - any information you want, I'll give it to you."

"It's too late, Kirk. This little stunt was the last straw - you and Spock are hereby-"

Pike was interrupted by an alarm from the direction of the spacedock, which made everyone turn and look. "Your ship!" Edith exclaimed.

"What the _hell_?!" Jim exclaimed, over the sound of his communicator going off. He scrambled for it. "Scotty, what's going on up there?! Who gave the order to leave the dock?"

"No one did, no one," Scotty was babbling at him, and the communicator kept chirping with other incoming calls. "I don't know why we're moving, we shouldn't be moving! Someone engaged the engines, and I can't use any of the manual overrides from engineering!"

"Then get to the bridge!" Jim ordered him, and clicked over to the next call. "Kirk here, what's going on?"

"I just checked in with the team posted at the bridge." It was Cupcake. "They're not responding. Bridge isn't responding either."

That at least gave Jim a pretty good idea of what was happening, if not how or why. "Send another team up, phasers on heavy stun."

"Already on our way."

"Good, keep me posted." Jim flicked the dial again, craning his neck to look up at the docking mechanisms outside - already disengaged, and the Enterprise was pulling away. "Bones, I know that you're moving. Do you have anything to add?"

"So this isn't you?"

"Nope. We can talk later, have to deal with this now." First channel again. "Scotty, update?"

"I can't get out of engineering, the deck's sealed off! I tried contacting the bridge, but there's no response!"

"Dammit!" Jim exclaimed, and flicked the dial again. "Transporter room! ...Transporter room!"

"Jim, shut it." That wasn't the transporter room, but Pike, crossing the few paces between them with his own communicator open. "I'll take care of this. You're dismissed."

"They're _stealing_ my _ship_!" Jim protested.

"It's not your ship," Pike reminded him.

"Sir...!"

"What seems to be the trouble?" asked Sarek as he approached the small crowd of anxious humans - and two other largely stoic Vulcans. His eyes flickered over all of them, lingered briefly on Surak, but gave no outward sign of any reaction to the odd assortment.

"Looks like someone on the Enterprise is taking advantage of it not having a captain at the moment," Pike told him. "Whoever it is, they're going to be in worse trouble than Kirk and your son. I need to get back to the Yorktown to pursue - we can discuss your positions later," Pike added, turning to Jim and Spock. "I think you'll agree, this is a little more urgent."

"Admiral, I respectfully ask that you allow Kirk and myself to accompany you," Spock spoke up, falling into line next to Pike as he strode off towards the ship, and Jim jogged to catch up, followed by Edith and Captain Christopher. "We have been serving on the Enterprise, and are familiar-"

"Spock, you've been dismissed," Pike reminded him. "Your father's waiting."

"I am indeed," said Sarek, catching up as Jim and Spock halted. "Spock, board the Thol-hali, and wait there for me."

"Father-" Spock began to protest.

"You are no longer a Starfleet officer," Sarek told him. "You will be returning home with me shortly, to enroll in the Vulcan Science Academy, as you should have done."

Spock looked to Jim, distress for once clearly visible in his eyes, if one knew where to look. But then, there was a minute change, a flash of something that changed the entire look of him, though Jim could not have said how, and when he spoke again, he seemed calm. "I will do as you have said, Father. I am sorry, Jim. It seems that my dismissal is inevitable."

...Had Spock just... turned off the human half of himself, Jim wondered in dismay. Spock didn't say it in so many words, or show it as obviously as most, but he loved Starfleet, maybe every bit as much as Jim. He loved being on the Enterprise, around its crew... he had Uhura... How could Spock just calmly forget about all of that? And their friendship, the bond that was supposed to more or less hold history together...

"Do not fear," Spock told Jim. "Everything will beam just fine."

Jim wasn't sure he'd just heard what he thought he'd heard. Spock didn't make slips of the tongue. ...So that wasn't a slip of the tongue, Jim deduced, and a moment later it dawned on him. He fought the urge to grin, and instead made himself nod reluctantly. "...All right. Sorry about all this."

Spock simply shook his head, as if dismissing the notion, and held up his hand in the traditional gesture. Jim made a hurried attempt to do likewise, as Spock turned towards the hangar.

"I do not understand," Sarek remarked to Kirk. "Although Spock has always had a most human rebellious streak, he had never been outright disrespectful or shirked his duties until he met you. Your influence, I'm afraid, has caused him even greater challenges than he faced already."

"That's okay," Jim replied, watching as Spock quickened his pace, running now that his father's back was turned. Yes, he'd read that 'slip of the tongue' right - he was sure of it. "Spock's never met a challenge he couldn't handle."

"You have not known each other for very long," Sarek pointed out.

"You may be right," Jim acknowledged. "Maybe it's just that when the two of us are facing challenges _together_ , we can't fail."

Sarek shook his head. "If I were human, and believed in such notions - given what I have read of your doings, I would have attributed your successes to sheer luck."

Jim couldn't help smirking, just a little. "Nah - I'd attribute them to ingenuity... and maybe a basic sort of understanding." Jim wasn't going to bring up Sarek's human wife - that would be hitting below the belt, he thought. But he could mess around a little, buy Spock a little more time... "It's funny how your son and I just naturally understood each other, almost right from the start. We may have gotten off on the wrong foot, but once we got past that... The thing is," he tried to explain, "we're nothing alike, except where it counts. Sometimes it seems like we share a brain, or maybe a soul."

Sarek raised an eyebrow curiously. "That seems... illogical and sentimental."

"Maybe it is," Jim admitted. "But I'm human - I'm allowed. ...And it looks like it's time for me to go," he added, feeling the telltale tingle.

Sarek's eyebrows both shot up this time, before they disappeared with the rest of him into the haze of the transporter beam.

" _Awesome_ ," Jim began, as he rematerialized inside the Thol-hali, but the rest of what he was going to say was forgotten, because he didn't rematerialize alone. On the small transporter pad with him were five others, all of whom were more confused about what had just happened than he was. "Spock...?"

"Did we just teleport _again_?" Captain Christopher asked in amazement.

"That would be the logical assumption," Surak answered, looking around the interior of the ship curiously.

"Why did you bring them?" Jim asked, stepping off the pad to follow Spock into the cockpit. "They're already mixed up in more than they should be."

"This is a Vulcan transport vessel, relatively small and entirely unarmed," Spock explained, sliding into the foremost seat. "Simply catching up to the Enterprise will not be enough; I believe that we will need more allies if we are to succeed."

The viewing monitor blinked on as Spock activated the ship's systems one by one; the Enterprise had almost cleared the docks, and the Yorktown was still in the process of disengaging. "Hangar depressurizing," Spock reported, and the engines began to hum. "We will be ready for takeoff in fifteen... fourteen... thirteen..."

"All right, everybody either sit down or hold onto something, or preferably both," Jim told their passengers. "I can guarantee none of you have ever gone as fast as we're about to go."

The Enterprise engaged warp, shooting off into the distance when Spock had counted down to two. The Yorktown was still maneuvering into position, due to its large size - but the Vulcan transport, smaller and more maneuverable, accelerated to follow the Enterprise almost instantly.


	8. Chapter 8

It was quite convenient, Khan thought, that one of his fellow escapees was from Earth, just as he was. It made deciding on a destination more simple... and as the other man was a predecessor of his, in a sense, they were in agreement about what should be done when they arrived.

The doors to the elevator opened, but Genghis had been keeping a close eye on all the entrances while Zora and Khan flew the ship; the officer yelled in surprise as a thick boot met him in the face, sending him tumbling backwards. The door closed again at Genghis's press of the button. Khan acknowledged it with a nod. Genghis Khan was a smart, strong, capable man - a man who had united much of Asia under his rule, just as Khan had done. On the surface, they seemed well-matched. Khan had not given away his advantage yet, however; although the Mongol would be useful, he was as other normal humans - comparatively weak.

"Ms. Zora - can you cut that elevator off?" Khan inquired.

"I think so..."

As for Zora, she was nowhere near a match for either of them physically, but intellectually she was a genius possibly on Khan's level, with a great deal of knowledge in chemistry and biology. She had been of great assistance while forcing their way onto the bridge, having thought to steal doses of certain medications from the sickbay before she and Genghis had slipped away. The red-shirted officers had been properly restrained, of course, but those who she had claimed as her own were still fast asleep. In the meantime, she was able to understand many of the panels that the two men could not, her own civilization having been more advanced in the time from which she came than theirs had been. It was she who had set the course, for she was familiar with starmaps in ways that Khan was not.

Both were stubborn, and not to be trusted, but Khan thought he might keep Zora around. He might even accompany her to other worlds, if she did not attempt to stab them in the back during his first planetary conquest, long overdue.

"We are receiving an incoming message," Zora told them.

"What does it say?" Khan inquired.

"It seems to be a request for video communication between our two ships."

"From whom?"

"From our friends who have been following us," she replied. "Should I put it onscreen?"

Khan considered, and nodded. They had been gaining ground, and he was growing curious. "Go ahead."

Genghis stayed near the shaft, but turned to watch out of one corner of his eye as the gigantic monitor at the front of the bridge flickered on. "So it _is_ you, Khan. I see you've made some new friends."

The two men seemed somewhat familiar. Khan searched his memory... "You!" he exclaimed, abrupt and angry. "You were the time travelers who plucked me from the brink of domination of the entire eastern hemisphere!"

"Your traverse through time was quite inadvertent, I assure you," said the other man, the one with the pointed ears. "Our intention from the start was to return you to the time from which you came, so that you may resume your campaign as you see fit. All of you; if you stop the ship immediately and allow us to board, we will assist you in returning to your own times and places."

"That interests me very little," Khan stated. "I have read your history files. It would seem that even should I return to my own time, further conquests on my part would create a paradox. I'm sure that none of you from this future would be pleased if I were to change history, and perhaps erase you from existence."

The two men exchanged glances. "Khan," said the man in the golden shirt. "You don't belong here."

"And yet here I am," Khan observed. "I have found myself a new objective, befitting this new time."

The man looked somewhat anxious. "Listen, you don't know what you're facing. Stop the ship, or you'll be destroyed."

"By your tiny ship?" Khan laughed. "We have been tracking you. Ms. Zora assures me that you have no known weapons. It would be a very poor fight; I suggest that you give up, for my ship is far more powerful."

"It's _my_ ship," growled the man. "Not yours - mine. And everyone aboard, except for you three, is my crew. If a single one of them comes to harm, Khan..."

"We have harmed no one, yet," Khan told him. "Although we seem to have no need of them. If you continue to make idle threats, I may... retaliate."

That quieted the man down. "Ms. Zora, I believe there is nothing else to discuss with these men, now that they understand their situation," said Khan. "End the transmission, if you please."

The screen winked out, and once again showed stars streaking past at tremendous speeds.

\---

"Course confirmed, captain," said Spock. "The Enterprise is indeed heading for Earth."

"That settles it!" Lincoln exclaimed, amidst the startled protests from the other anachronistic humans. "We have to stop them!"

Jim let out a deep breath. That wasn't good, by any means, but not for the reasons the time travelers might have thought. The Enterprise was a powerful ship, yes, but Earth was a founding world of the Federation, heavily guarded. The ship would be taken out before it got close enough to do any damage, if they didn't properly respond to hails from the authorities. Zora seemed to be navigating, from her position on the bridge, and the Federation hadn't even existed in her time. If they didn't respond at all to the signals, the ship might be destroyed, and everyone on it. Bones, Uhura, Scotty, and everyone else...

Even if they hadn't had friends there, it was _his ship_ , Jim thought. It didn't matter what Pike had said, or that they'd been dismissed. The Enterprise was _his ship_ , and he wasn't going to let anyone misuse it in this way.

"How long until we catch up with them?" he asked Spock.

"Two minutes and thirty-seven seconds," Spock replied.

"And time till they reach the border between the outposts?"

"At present speed, approximately five minutes."

"Okay." Jim nodded - he could work with that. "I think I've got a plan. Captain Christopher - how'd you like a crash course in flying this thing?"

Despite his dismay at the news of their destination, interest flashed in his eyes. "I'd be honored, sir."

"Cool. Spock, let Christopher have the hot seat for now, show him the basics."

Spock's eyebrow was raised as he stood. "I believe I see where you are going with this. Is this course of action wise?"

"You're going to have to come with me," Jim told him. "We're going to need numbers to overpower Khan and the others. You and Surak will be a big help, being Vulcan... how are you feeling, Surak?"

"Quite well," Surak replied. "However, if you intend to use violence, I must decline."

"Not violence," Jim said. "Submission is fine - they'll resist, but the point will be just to subdue them, not kill them. They need to go back to their own times, just like you guys. Do you know how to do that thing Spock does, that shoulder pinch thing?" He considered trying to demonstrate on his own shoulder, but that was awkward, so he reached out to demonstrate on Surak's.

Surak just looked down at Jim's hand in bewilderment. "I am not sure what _you_ are doing, but I do have the ability to subdue many humanoids with a similar technique."

"Okay, that's just fine." Spock was busy showing Christopher the controls, so Jim moved on to Lincoln. "Sounded like you wanted to go?"

"In my time, I _was_ known to take a stand against tyranny," Lincoln agreed, and as an afterthought, removed his top hat, setting it in one corner.

"You're in. Doc, how are you doing?"

"Much better, Jim, and if you think you're leaving me behind, you got another think coming," the gunslinger informed him.

"You're sure?" Jim asked him again. Sure, his medical staff was good, but Doc had been in pretty bad shape.

"I won't lie - I'm not up for a fistfight today," Doc admitted, and then twirled his pistol around his finger momentarily. "But as long as I've got this little darlin' here in my hand, I'm still ready and willing."

"Great." Jim clapped him on the shoulder. "Keep in mind we're aiming to capture, not to kill, okay?"

"Any target, doesn't matter to me," Doc assured him.

"Good, good..." Jim kind of wished they had some phasers, just in case. Those could be set on stun.

And that left... Edith, waiting behind the rest of them, listening and watching. "Edith," he began, approaching her, "I know you're opposed to violence."

"I have never believed that violence is an acceptable means of accomplishing anything," she replied. "It seems, though, that many in your time believe the same... and yet still find reason to fight."

"Yeah... unfortunately." He didn't want to disappoint her, or disillusion her, but he wasn't going to lie either. "Sometimes our hand is forced. It's better for us to make a quick, focused strike at a single target than to allow that target to kill thousands of innocents while we stand by and do nothing."

"And that's what's going to happen, isn't it?" she asked. "If Khan continues on to Earth, many people will die, no matter who strikes first."

"Exactly," he said. "That's why Starfleet exists... so no one has to die from acts of violence. We're the ones who use force, so others can live peacefully."

"I understand," she said with a nod. "But I cannot fight with you."

"That's fine." Jim reached out, rested his hands on her shoulders. "I didn't want you to get involved with the fighting anyway - there's another way you can help us." One arm slid around her shoulders, as he showed her to the transporter pad at the back of the ship.

He had just finished explaining what he would need her to do when Spock returned as well, flanked by Doc, Surak, and Lincoln. "The Thol-hali is in as good hands as is possible," Spock reported. "It seems that Captain Christopher has an instinctive knowledge of starship control mechanisms, much as many modern pilots find it simple to move from one model to another."

"A pilot's a pilot," Jim reasoned. "How much time do we have?"

"We have just caught up to the Enterprise. We have approximately two minutes and nineteen seconds before we reach the outer defensive screens."

"Then we'd better hurry," said Jim, ushering everyone but Edith onto the transporter pad, then calling forward to the cockpit. "Captain, take good care of her."

"This is the chance of a lifetime," came the reply. "Believe me, I'm not trying _anything_ that would bring it to an early end."

"Okay. Edith?" Jim said, turning back to the control panel where she and Spock stood. "Ready to go?"

"I believe so..."

"I am still inputting the variables for the calculation," Spock spoke up. "One moment..."

He worked fast, however, and it was only shortly thereafter that he stepped onto the pad with the others. "At your word, captain."

"Got it. Long as our transporter chief's set." Jim looked to Edith and smiled. She smiled back and nodded. "Energize," he told her.

He saw her press the button and begin to move the lever, watching the instruments intently, then looking up at them again in concerned wonder as everything began to fade away.

Unsurprisingly, it seemed that Khan had never seen a transporter being used before; when Jim and the others materialized, they found Khan just standing there, staring at them in stunned disbelief. Someone was a little quicker to react, however, and Jim found his legs swept out from under him by the blunt end of a spear. The pointed tip was facing him by the time he looked up, but it fell away quickly - as Lincoln, appearing right next to Jim, punched Genghis Khan squarely in the nose.

Vulcan strength put Spock and Surak at a similar level with Khan, but he was talented and quick enough with hand-to-hand combat that he was evading their attempts to grip his shoulder. Zora had risen from the navigator's chair, and Jim threw himself at her, wrestling her to the ground. "A few years ago, I might've enjoyed this," he grunted, twisting her hands behind her back. Genghis attempted to come to her defense, but a gunshot rang out, zipping between them and causing both of them, Jim, and Lincoln to look in the direction from which it had sounded; not that they could see him, but it looked like Doc had taken up a position behind the science platform.

The problem was, they were outmatched. Genghis Khan was known to be a warrior - not so much President Lincoln, who had gotten a few good blows in, but was obviously overmatched. Jim couldn't help without letting Zora up, and who knew what she might do if he did. "Surak!" he called, thinking quickly. "Help Lincoln!" Spock could probably keep himself safe, if not overcome Khan on his own.

Beneath him, Zora struggled, and Jim was forced to turn his attention back to her. "Stay down!" he ordered her. "This little coup is over."

"It doesn't look so simple as that to me," she snarled. "I've observed Khan - someone like you is no match for him."

"No, but I've got two Vulcans with me, and I bet you've never seen a Vulcan before." Jim thought about that for a second. "Believe me, you're never going to get the chance to get a good look." Something struck him in the shoulder, startling him, though it was soft rather than hard or violent - and he looked up to see the belt of Surak's robe, Surak having flung it at him. _Perfect._ "In fact, this is as close as you're ever going to get," he told Zora, beginning to tie her hands.

Surak and Lincoln together were definitely enough for Genghis Khan, and Jim looked up just in time to see Genghis whirl to point his spear at Lincoln... only to be grabbed from behind by Surak, at the junction of neck and shoulder. Genghis fell to the floor of the bridge, helpless.

Unfortunately, Khan must have been stronger and quicker than Jim realized. "Everyone freeze," his commanding voice bellowed, filling the bridge. Jim turned and saw Khan holding Spock by the neck, dangling him through the door to the turbolift shaft. The turbolift itself was nowhere in sight.

That shaft went all the way to the lowest level. Jim did indeed freeze - no one could survive a fall like that. "Let him go, Khan," he ordered.

"That is exactly what I intend to do," Khan stated, "if any of you make a sudden move. Now - all of you, line up against the front of the bridge.

They had no choice but to do as he said. However, it was only himself, Surak, and Lincoln who obeyed; Jim glanced around, and saw no evidence whatsoever that there was another member of their strike team. He hoped Khan couldn't see any from his vantage point either.

Spock did not struggle or squirm as Khan held his throat in a tight grip, but remained calm and stoic despite straining to breathe - no doubt he understood that logically, it would be safest for him if he didn't make it harder for Khan to hold onto him. Seeing him like that made Jim's heart sink even so. "We did what you said - now put him down," Jim ordered Khan.

"Not just yet," Khan said. "You - untie my navigator."

"Don't," Spock rasped. "He must be stopped, Jim. It is more logical that I alone should perish, rather than the crew of the Enterprise."

Khan chuckled. "The crew of the Enterprise? They are perfectly safe, for the time being, and shall remain safely locked away until such a time as they make themselves-"

A familiar whistle sounded from the communications console - and Jim didn't hear the familiar greeting that must have followed, because the sound startled Khan, standing near the console, into loosening his grip. Silently, Spock slipped from his grasp and disappeared into the long shaft.

Everyone froze. "I repeat," came the transmission again, "this is Earth outpost Alpha Five - do you read me, Enterprise? Please verify."

They had reached the outer limits of Terran space. And at the moment, Jim didn't care one bit; a rage was filling him, unlike any he'd ever known. He'd just seen the bastard kill Spock. Spock, his first officer, the best friend he was destined to explore the galaxy with for the rest of his life. Khan had killed Spock. He'd _killed Spock_.

Jim's fists clenched against the bulkhead, and he couldn't hold back his fury. "You _killed Spock_!" he bellowed, leaping forward. "You twentieth-century _dickweed_!"

His error was immediately obvious; if Spock was no match for Khan, neither was he, and he found himself flat on his back on the floor within a split second.

"Enterprise, your presence in this sector is unexpected, and unauthorized by Starfleet," came the transmission from the outpost. "Please respond with the proper codes, or we will assume the worst."

No one was paying much attention to the message, however. Lincoln and Surak were staring helplessly at Khan, who had a knife to Jim's throat. "I assume I may not count on your cooperation," Khan said. "Perhaps your crew will be more willing - I may spare them, should they agree to my terms."

"Not likely," Jim growled. "Especially not after you killed _Spock_."

Jim's anger surged, but the knife pressed closer against his throat when he began to struggle. "He was only the first," Khan informed him. "I have no further use for you, for instance..."

There was a tense moment, as Khan's grip on the knife shifted, preparing to strike. Then a noise sounded - a bang, loud and sudden - and Khan jerked upright, dropping the knife as he clutched his arm in shock. Jim took the opportunity to roll to his knees, lunging for the knife, but Khan recovered too quickly.

Then Khan's expression turned from anger to astonishment, his mouth falling open as he went suddenly limp. Standing over him was...

"Spock...?!" Jim exclaimed, as Khan fell to the floor, the fingers on his shoulder releasing him. "You're alive!"

Spock raised an eyebrow, but there was no mistaking the smile as he met Jim's eyes. "Obviously, captain."

Behind them, the transmission continued asking for codes, but Jim didn't care. He couldn't help himself - he threw his arms around Spock, squeezing him tightly in his relief, and he felt Spock's hands resting on his back likewise. Just for a moment, though; simultaneously, both of them seemed to realize what they were doing, and they quickly let go.

"I believe such emotional displays are inappropriate on the bridge," Spock said, once again straight-faced.

"Uh, yeah. Good thing no one was here to see it," Jim acknowledged. "They'd start telling stories about us."

Spock's eyes darted off to the side awkwardly. "I regret to inform you, captain... but they already do."

"What?!" Jim exclaimed. ...Though he had to admit, the idea was kind of...

"Enterprise, this is your final warning," the transmission informed them. "If you do not respond with the proper codes, or turn back, we will be forced to take action."

"Captain Kirk here," Jim spoke up, putting aside the interesting ideas he'd just gotten for the time being and heading to the communications console, switching one of the terminals to transmit the codes at the necessary frequency. "We read you, Alpha Five - transmitting now. Sorry for the mixup."

"Code confirmed," came the reply. "Is everything under control, captain?"

"It is now," Jim told them. "Spock, see if you can free up everyone that's trapped on the other decks - I'll get us slowed down." He flashed a grin at Doc, who was getting to his feet from where he'd been hiding behind the science station. "And hey, Doc - that was some nice shooting."

"Easy shot," the gunslinger said dismissively, though he twirled his gun around his fingers again with a smirk. "That red shirt made for a pretty good target."

"It's _supposed_ to promote visibility," Jim answered automatically as he slid into the helmsman's chair. People wanted to be able to see the security officers, Starfleet's research said it made them feel safer, so red was the optimal color for ops... but secretly, he'd kind of wondered. "Surak, Lincoln... thanks for all the help."

"I am glad to have been of some use," replied Surak, and Lincoln nodded, his thinning hair sticking out in every direction from the fight.

"All decks unlocked," Spock reported. "Turbolifts now operational. May I suggest contacting the Thol-hali and instructing Captain Christopher to slow down as well?"

"Yeah, go do that," Jim told him, swiveling the chair to follow his progress towards the communications station. "...Reminds me, Spock - how'd you get back up here after Khan dropped you down the shaft?"

"One of the turbolift pods was stalled two decks below," Spock explained. "I landed on the top, after only a short fall, and simply climbed back."

"Hah - awesome," Jim chuckled.

"Captain Christopher, this is Commander Spock. We have secured the Enterprise and are about to come to a halt. I request that you do as we do." There was a pause. "I am getting no response, captain."

"Did you even show him how to use the communications system?" Jim pointed out.

"No, but..." Spock moved up to navigation. "Captain, the Thol-hali is no longer within range of sensors."

"What?" Jim backed off the warp engines immediately, slowing them to impulse. "Where did they go?"

"Unknown," Spock replied. "Perhaps, given that the crew did not know how to operate the ship's communications system, let alone the required codes and methods of transmission, they did not respond to the outpost's message within the allotted time."

Jim looked up to meet Spock's eyes, suddenly worried. "...You think they've been shot down?"

"It is only one of many possible explanations," Spock said. "Perhaps, however, the most plausible."

"Oh, no. _Hell_ no," Jim muttered, getting up from the chair and hitting the open hailing frequency button on the captain's. "Alpha Five, this is the Enterprise," he said urgently. "We were being followed by a Vulcan transport - the Thol-hali. Do you know what happened to them?"

"We had attempted to contact them as well," came the response, "and received no answer. Instead, they just veered off, turned around."

Jim let out a deep breath. "Okay. So no one fired on them."

"No fire was exchanged," the transmission confirmed.

"All right. If you see them, be aware that the pilot of the Thol-hali doesn't have the access codes," Jim told them. "That ship is under our protection - I'll vouch for them personally. Let us know if you see them."

"Will do, Enterprise."

"They were traveling at warp," Jim muttered. "Captain Christopher's never flown at warp. They could have wound up anywhere."

"We are in a heavily traveled sector," Spock pointed out. "Someone will certainly pick them up on sensors before long. Besides, Captain Christopher is an accomplished pilot, if not in this type of craft; I believe he will have done the logical thing, and simply turned back to wait." Spock turned back to the navigational equipment, then quickly back to Jim. "As a matter of fact, there is a craft approaching now," he reported, before taking a closer look at the readings. "But it is too large to be the Thol-hali. In fact, it seems to be the USS Yorktown." Spock paused and looked back, towards communications. "They appear to be hailing us."

Jim should have expected that. The lights blinking all over communications indicated that transmissions were coming in from all over the ship, too, but the Yorktown was by far the most important. "Full stop, Spock," he said. "The Enterprise is safe... so I guess it's time to face the music."

With that, he hit the switch to hear the transmission. "Enterprise, this is Admiral Pike," said a familiar voice. "Who am I addressing?"

"Right now, Jim Kirk," Jim replied. "We've successfully secured the bridge. Everything's under control."

"Well, that's a relief," said Pike. "However, you and all your weird friends are in _serious_ trouble."

"I know, sir," Jim acknowledged.

"Captain," Spock murmured, and pointed to the sensor readings for the Yorktown. It was not a single vessel after all, but...

Jim's heart leapt. "Admiral, is that the Thol-hali, just off your starboard bow?"

"We caught them in a tractor beam when they failed to respond," Pike told him. "The two aboard have already been beamed over and taken into custody... and I regret to say that you're about to join them."

Jim and Spock exchanged glances. "That's all right," Jim told Pike. "We can explain everything - we hereby submit ourselves to your authority." Spock gave him a small nod of agreement.

"Good," Pike said. "In that case, prepare for boarding."


	9. Chapter 9

They wound up in the Yorktown's brig, joining Edith and Captain Christopher. Before they left the Enterprise, though, Jim insisted they take Zora, Genghis Khan, and Khan Noonien Singh into custody as well, as they'd been the ones that stole the Enterprise - and although he got a lot of bizarre looks from the security detail, Jim's recommendation was followed.

They were almost at Earth anyhow, and it was still early morning according to much of the western hemisphere, and so they spent only a few hours in the brig before being transported down for an inquiry. All they could do was tell the truth - Jim and Spock had agreed from the start.

They told the whole story to the assembled council, with the assorted visitors from the past sitting beside them, listening. Jim and Spock told the council how they'd gone back in time just as Jim had claimed they could do, inadvertently brought Khan back with them, and purposely stayed overnight in the past to save Surak's life and preserve history. How they'd had an accident which led to traveling through time and space randomly, and hadn't been clear on why they were landing when and where they were. Jim acknowledged that he was in part responsible for Khan's takeover of the Enterprise, which was why he considered it his responsibility to take it back. But none of it, he and Spock told them, had been malicious or careless. They had achieved time travel, and time travel made things rather complicated.

Finally, they were taken to a room where they could wait for a decision from the council - aside from the three who had taken over the Enterprise, who were being held in the brig.

Jim didn't see that much difference, except that their waiting room had a replicator and a little more furniture. He slumped on one of the couches, Edith waiting anxiously at his side. Doc had muttered something about helping to put people in jail, not being put in jail himself, and gone to sulk in front of one of the large windows overlooking the bay. At least it had a decent view, he said. Spock and Surak were speaking softly in one corner, Lincoln listened in thoughtfully, and Captain Christopher paced nervously. "What exactly is the council supposed to decide?" he asked Jim.

"Whether or not to press formal charges, I suppose," Jim muttered. "We did go AWOL, we disobeyed orders, we stole an ambassador's ship..."

"If you need representation," Lincoln offered helpfully, as he and the Vulcans approached, "I used to be a lawyer."

"Thanks," Jim told him, glum, "but I'm not sure having someone from the past represent us would be a good idea in this case, no matter how good a lawyer you are."

"I believe," said Spock, "that we may not need to worry so much as you think we do. Admiral Pike looked much less furious after hearing our explanation."

"Yeah, but he was always on our side," Jim pointed out. "He's always been on our side. As long as he believes we're telling the truth now, I wouldn't expect him not to decide in our favor... It's everyone else that's the problem."

"Biased or not, his change of expression may reveal how powerfully our explanation may have moved the council," Spock said. "You may recall that they had asked us to pursue the matter of time travel. We have done so, and have evidence of our success."

"Maybe, but they did want to dismiss us." Jim shook his head. "But you know what, Spock? If they dismiss us, as far as I'm concerned, it's their loss. I'll apply all the training I learned in Starfleet to something else."

"That's right," Edith told him, taking his hand and squeezing it. "I'm sure there are plenty of applications for your experience."

"I would unfortunately have little outlet for much of my training, should I be pressured into the Vulcan Science Academy," Spock said. ...Jim had forgotten about that.

"If I may make an observation," Surak spoke up. "It matters very little what you may all do after this point in time. Your experiences have shaped you into what you are; whatever you may choose to do once the council has decided, you are still the persons that you have become, and you will act accordingly, with the knowledge and experience you have gained. You may have opportunity to show it outwardly, or you may keep it within yourself, but you shall always possess it."

"That is logical," Spock acknowledged. "Even so, I believe it would be a waste of the time and investment Starfleet spent to train us in such a manner."

"Well, that's _their_ time and investment that would be wasted," Jim said, getting to his feet. Surak definitely had a point, and it had given him an idea. "We've still got everything they gave us, except a ship."

"And an assignment together," Spock pointed out.

"Does it matter?" Jim asked. "Your father might want you to go back to the colony, but you're an adult - you can make your own choices. And we could get a ship of our own - it might not be as amazing as the Enterprise, but it would be ours. We could _still_ explore the universe together - we'd just have to be a little more determined about it."

Spock nodded slowly. Even though Spock hadn't been showing it, Jim knew he was depressed about the prospect of going back to the colony - but he was getting through to Spock, and he seized on it. "And you know what? I'm not ashamed of anything we've done," he added. "I'd do it all again. Even if we made a few mistakes along the way, we _did_ learn from them, and I think you'd agree, this was an incredible ride, in a lot of ways."

"We were given a chance to travel through time, study the potential avenues of paradoxes, and speak with important figures from history," Spock agreed, and looked to the Vulcan standing next to him. "I had the opportunity to speak face to face with the father of my present civilization. That in itself may well have been worth it, even if we do lose our rank and active officer status."

"Yeah. You see?" Jim said with a nod and a grin.

"Indeed," Spock said, visibly more relaxed. "We have experienced a most fascinating adventure. Whether we are a part of Starfleet or not, there is no reason why we may not have another."

"Exactly," Jim agreed.

"Unless they wind up hanging us all," Doc grumbled, making his way over from the window.

Jim gave him a funny look. "They don't hang people anymore."

"They do, however, still have prison planets," Spock remarked. "Depending on the severity of retribution for our actions, we may spend some time on one of them."

Jim wasn't as concerned about that as he might have been. He'd done jail before. But there was a big difference between spending the night while sobering up, and being shipped off-world for months or years at a time.

...Well, he'd deal with that if and when it happened. "They're not going to send _all_ of us to prison, though," he pointed out. "If they do anything to _you_ -" he gestured to those from the past, "-then they're running the risk of changing history. All they can safely do to you is send you back to your own times."

Edith frowned. "Jim, we all collaborated in this plot of yours. It wouldn't be right for you and Spock to be punished, and the rest of us to simply go back to our ordinary lives." The others nodded in agreement.

"But there's really no other options for you," Jim told them. "Each of you has something back home to do, and if you don't do those things, Spock and I may not even come to exist."

"I submit," said Spock, "that our continued existence likely indicates that everyone must return to their time safely and carry on with their lives as if nothing had happened."

"That's right," Captain Christopher said, somewhat subdued. "If I just go missing during that mission to Saturn, I'm guessing Earth's space program won't have exactly the same trajectory, and this Starfleet might not even exist."

"And if Surak does not successfully spread his philosophy of logic over emotion," Spock agreed, looking to the other man, "then my world may never focus enough on science and discovery to achieve interplanetary travel."

"I suppose," Edith agreed quietly, "that we all have a great deal of work to do in the past to bring about the future."

"That's right - all of you have a mission," Jim told them, looking around. His eyes lingered on Edith; he couldn't help but recognize that in her case, it wouldn't succeed. Even so, history had to be preserved. "So no matter what happens, you can make sure Spock and I are all right by just living your lives the way you would have if we hadn't interfered. That's how you can best help us."

They all nodded, murmuring their agreements. But then Doc spoke up. "Er... if you two are in prison, how're we supposed to get back to our own times?"

Jim's firm expression faltered. He hadn't thought of that. "Uh, I guess someone will take you if we don't," he muttered.

"That logic may be useful in your defense," Lincoln mused. "You cannot be sent to prison, or our absence from history may cause your world to cease to exist."

"And following that same logic," Surak put in, "it seems likely that you _will not_ be penalized with imprisonment."

Jim glanced at Spock, who raised an eyebrow. "Given our observations of time's workings," Spock said, "that seems to be a rather logical conclusion."

Jim grinned at Surak and Lincoln. "Thanks," he said, sitting back down next to Edith, this time sprawling comfortably rather than slumping, his arm stretched out behind her along the back of the couch. "Suddenly I feel a lot better about this."

It wasn't a sure thing by any means, but it was enough to help Jim to relax, and when they were called to return to the council chamber, he met the eyes of the assembled admirals and other high-ranking officials without shame. He was reminded somewhat of when he had first faced Spock, just a few rooms over, while still a cadet; although his actions were questionable, his conscience was clear and his position was firm.

"Captain James T. Kirk, Commander Spock," announced Admiral Preston, the highest in rank present. "Please come forward."

The two of them stood together and stepped forward to the center of the room. Jim exchanged a glance with Spock, shooting him a quick smile. This time, they were on the same side. Even if the worst happened, he thought, they still had each other, and they still had their future.

"There is no question that you have violated several rules and regulations," he intoned. "You have readily admitted to leaving your station without authorization, to negligence leading to the capture of a Starfleet vessel, to disobeying the orders of a superior officer, and to the theft of a ship. Should you face court-martial, you would certainly be found guilty."

... _Should_ they face court-martial. That sounded promising to Jim.

"However," the admiral continued, "the council recognizes that although your own initial actions were the root cause of these violations, you were performing to the best of your abilities as Starfleet officers in your attempts to resolve the matter. You were diligent in maintaining the integrity of the past, resourceful at solving the problems you encountered, and eager to take responsibility for the unexpected results of your actions. These are all qualities which are to be admired in Starfleet officers, and the council believes that it would be to the Federation's detriment to remove two such dedicated and quick-thinking officers from service. There will be no charges brought against you, and you may return to your duties aboard the Enterprise."

The council chamber erupted in cheers and applause - and other noises. The ear-piercing whistle that caught Jim's attention was coming from President Lincoln, and there was a loud bang accompanying the whoop before three security guards tackled Doc. ...He'd be okay, Jim thought with amusement, and wondered how they'd managed to miss the gun when they brought him in in the first place. He caught Spock's eye, and gave him another bright smile.

"We do have one more issue to address," put in Councilman Logan. "That being the matter of your travel through time. The council recognizes that it was prompted by our own encouragement, and indeed it _is_ a great accomplishment. Given the potential for misuse and even disaster, however, we therefore decree that you return everyone from the past to the time and location in which you found them, as quickly as possible - and that you _never_ travel through time again."

Jim was _just fine_ with that idea. "Yes, sir," he said at once. At least, as long as it didn't become necessary for some reason. Beside him, Spock nodded, echoing his words.

"And," Logan added, giving the two of them a knowing look, "if you should just happen to do so regardless? _Don't tell anyone._ "

Jim laughed, as did most of the assembly. "Absolutely not, sir."

"The inquiry has hereby ended," finished Admiral Preston. "You are all dismissed to your usual duties... aside from Captain Kirk and Commander Spock, who have some more unusual duties to perform first."

Indeed they did, Jim thought, and wondered where they'd have to collect Doc from.

\---

Some of the goodbyes could be put off for a little while, they decided; there were a few things that had to be done before some of the historical figures could be returned. In the meantime, Jim and Spock had absolutely no regrets about seeing a few others on their way.

For everyone's safety, the two Khans and Zora were kept under sedation while being taken back to their own time. Considering that both Khans had been taken from the midst of war zones, this was potentially dangerous, however, and Spock considered alternate drop locations, to ensure their safety.

Genghis Khan's encampment wasn't far from the battlefield, and his soldiers scattered at the appearance of the booth, dropping down into their midst. The archers were a bit of a nuisance, however. Jim watched the arrows fly, bouncing off the booth harmlessly, and thrust their ruler out the door while the archers were reloading. By that time, some of his men had recovered from the shock, and called for a halt when they recognized who it was lying there on the ground. The booth disappeared as they rushed in to assist.

\---

Jim hated having to take Zora back. Her experiments on the Tiburonians had gone on for years, and they didn't like the idea of returning her only to continue her reign of terror. It was, unfortunately, how history had unfolded, Spock reminded him. Her mistreatment of the race had shaped the Tiburonians' civilization in the coming centuries.

When they returned to the place they had acquired her, snatching her away from the man upon whom she was performing some kind of painful tests, the laboratory was empty. "...I've got an idea," Jim told Spock with a smirk. "Can you give me a hand here?" If they had to permit her continued abuse, at least they could make it a little more annoying for her...

A few minutes later, they left Zora herself strapped to the examination table. Jim waved cheerfully through the door of the booth as they moved on.

\---

Khan began to come around while they were still in the wormhole, on the way to the late 20th century. At a gesture from Jim, Spock reached for his shoulder.

That woke Khan up more fully. "Make any sudden moves," Jim told him, "and you're going right back to sleep."

"You are threatening to _put me to sleep?_ " Khan sneered. "I, who would have killed you both without hesitation?"

"Anyone with sufficient brute strength can kill with little effort," Spock reasoned. "It takes skill to entirely disable one's opponent without killing, or even causing permanent harm to him."

Bones had filled them in on what had happened with Chekov and Sulu. Jim had to try to suppress his smirk at the way Khan bristled.

"Your future is soft and weak," Khan told them. "I do not care for what Earth and its people have become."

"Well, that means one of two things," Jim pointed out, as the wormhole began to open up to show the aircraft carrier beyond. "Either you don't have much influence on the way the world turns out... or maybe you do, and it still winds up like this. What do you think of that?"

"I think I shall change your history," Khan said spitefully. "With my knowledge of the future, and another chance, this time I will succeed - and you and your Federation will cease to exist."

"You can give it a shot," Jim said, and opened the door as they landed. "Let's send him off, Spock."

Spock let go of Khan's shoulder, just as Jim gave him a shove. Still unsteady from the drugs, Khan stumbled out of the booth - and then out of view. Somewhere beneath them, there was a loud splash.

Jim looked outside, and then down, to find that they had landed just on the edge of the aircraft carrier. Far below, Khan splashed about in the deep blue waters of the ocean. "Curse you, Kirk!" he bellowed. "I _will_ erase you from existence!"

Spock and Jim exchanged glances. "Somehow I'm not too worried about that," Jim said with a shrug. "Let's get out of here."

Alarms were sounding over the shouts of 'man overboard', as the telephone booth sunk through the deck and vanished.

\---

Once the criminals had been taken care of, they had no further excuses. Jim and Spock had to begin returning those who had assisted them - those who had become their friends along the way.

It had been simple enough to replicate a spacesuit of the make and model that the Earth-Saturn mission had used, since all the past designs and specifications were on record in Starfleet's databases - they even had pictures of his uniform specifically, still stored in one of Earth's museums. When Captain Christopher opened the door to the booth, floating out into his own ship's airlock, it was in a brand new spacesuit, tested and proven flawless by even Starfleet's advanced standards.

"Thanks," he told them. "Not just for the suit, but for a glimpse of our future. And a chance to break the light speed barrier," he added, almost sheepishly. "Too bad I won't be able to tell anyone about it."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Jim said with a nod. He knew a little about glimpses into the future that he couldn't exactly talk about, considering how he'd wound up on the Enterprise in the first place.

"I would remind you," Spock said, "that in our time, travel at warp speed is no accomplishment whatsoever. In your time, however, travel to Saturn is a great accomplishment indeed, and worthy of much admiration."

Captain Christopher nodded more soberly. "Thanks," he said again. "I'll do my best... especially now that I know we _have_ to succeed."

"Captain?" came the fuzzy transmission from inside the ship's cabin. "What's going on out there? What kind of intruder is it?"

"Gotta go," Jim murmured. "Just tell him one of the spare suits was floating around in here or something, you got confused."

The captain laughed, and gave them a wave before activating his suit's transmitter.

\---

"Sorry about all this," Jim told President Lincoln, opening the telephone booth's door to the interior of the Oval Office. "I guess we didn't have a reason to take you to the future after all."

"That's all right," Lincoln assured him. "I'm just glad to know that I managed to do all right by history's reckoning - the country's in an upheaval now, you understand, and it's impossible to know how it will end..."

"Yeah, I remember reading all about it," said Jim.

"I am not as familiar with Earth's history," Spock told him. "However, several centuries in the future, you will continue to work towards the ideal of freedom by assisting us on the bridge, even while aware that the situation is far beyond your understanding. I would say that your country is in good hands."

"Thank you, good sir," Lincoln said, turning back to them and reaching upwards as they returned to the booth. He frowned suddenly, feeling at his head. "I beg your pardon," he asked. "But my hat seems to have gone missing. If you happen to come across it..."

"Sure thing."

"Captain," Spock reminded Jim in a murmur as he closed the door. "After these last few trips, we will be forbidden from traveling through time any longer."

"Spock," Jim murmured in return. "Lincoln's hat is almost as famous as he is. It seriously might change history if we _don't_ find it and bring it back."

Spock did not appear to believe him. With good reason. "Is that so?"

Jim nodded, straight-faced. "Absolutely."

"Most illogical," Spock muttered, and began dialing the number for home.

The flashes of light and crackling sounds had hardly faded from the Oval Office when they started all over again. "You left it in Spock's dad's ship," Jim said, stepping out by himself, in an entirely different shirt. "Here you go."

"Thank you again," Lincoln said, tapping his hat back into shape as the booth vanished a second time.

\---

Surak was well-prepared for the desert heat this time. He had a pack with containers of water and packets of nutritional supplements; no one in the Federation wanted to chance one of their founding worlds changing to the barbaric, hostile society it had been before his influence. In fact, Jim and Spock had agreed to drop him a little closer to civilization than they'd found him, just to make sure.

"I thank you most sincerely for your assistance and generosity," he told them, stepping back from the booth into the bright sunlight and lifting his hand. "Live long and prosper, Captain Kirk, Commander Spock."

"Peace and long life to you as well," Spock replied, with the same gesture. Jim at least tried it.

Surak's eyes fell on one other figure who was with them in the booth. "And Mr. Holliday, of course. Do be mindful of your lungs."

Doc had wanted to accompany them when they took Surak home - he and Surak had spent so much time together during the course of their adventure, it looked like the two of them had taken a liking to each other. "It was nice knowin' you, Surak," he muttered, somewhat self-conscious. "Thanks for everything."

"Likewise," Surak said, and turned away, beginning the long walk that lay ahead.

Jim and Spock just watched after him for a moment. "It is unfortunate that we cannot stay and observe," Spock remarked quietly. "This may have been the most fascinating period of Vulcan history, centering around this single man."

"Yeah," Jim agreed. He'd kind of felt the same way about some of the other times and places they'd wound up.

"Hey, Surak!" Doc spoke up all of a sudden, starting out of the booth after him. "Hold on just a minute!"

Surak paused, and turned back. "Yes?"

"Well, the sun's a mite hot, and there ain't no shade in sight," Doc reasoned, and after a moment's awkward hesitation, removed his hat. "This'll keep the sun off your neck, make your walk more pleasant."

Surak gave the offered hat a curious look, and then nodded, accepting it. "That seems quite logical. You have my gratitude," he said, settling it on his head.

Jim and Spock exchanged a look of disbelief.

\---

Doc was a little dejected after having to say goodbye to Surak, so rather than take him home immediately, Jim opted to stop back in the future for a moment, just long enough to grab Bones and get something from sickbay.

"Guess this is where we say goodbye," Doc said, once they'd passed through the wormhole and back to Dodge City. "Well, fellas, it's been fun."

"It has," Jim agreed, and offered Doc the object he'd made the side trip to retrieve. "Here's a little something to remember it by."

"Not like I was likely to forget anyway," Doc remarked, but took the small metal flask. "This what I think it is?"

"Yes, and no," Jim replied. "Remember I told you about Saurian brandy?"

Doc opened the flask and tipped it back, just a little ways. That was enough to make him wince. " _What_ kind of brandy?" he gasped, coughing slightly.

"Saurian. Not that it matters," Jim said with a grin. "You can just think of it as the good stuff."

Doc nodded and took another, more cautious sip. "If this don't keep the consumption at bay," he said with a chuckle, "nothing will."

"Save it for when you really need it, then," Jim suggested. They could have cured him, in their time, but history said that tuberculosis was the eventual cause of Doc's death; they couldn't interfere. As much as Bones hated leaving him in that state, it was a perfectly normal kind of death back then. "Someday down the road when it's really acting up."

"Good idea." Doc stepped back from the booth and gave them a wave. "Now, I guess I've got some history to make. You two get out of here before someone recognizes you from the other day, or you'll be history too."

"Right. Good luck," Jim called, as Spock dialed for home.

Home was where he both did and didn't want to be at the moment, because there was only one person left to take back.

\---

They had a little more leeway with Edith, since she wasn't actually an important historical figure. It was okay if Jim showed her around the starbase, took her out for a drink and a show - in full color and three-dimensional, even, rather than the movie they might have gone to see in her time. It was the best first date she'd ever had, she claimed - and not just for the advanced technology.

Jim had to agree. He wasn't used to dating, honestly, so much as hooking up. Somehow, he was enjoying his date with Edith more than any of the past meetings where he pretty much fell right into bed with someone.

He enjoyed it aside from the moments when he remembered, anyway.

They couldn't put it off forever. They'd both been up for far too long, and they were both yawning by the time Jim reluctantly acknowledged that it was time to escort her home. Spock had volunteered to accompany him, for moral support.

"I can't decide just how I feel about this," she admitted, her eyes fixed on the timescape outside the booth as it sped through the wormhole. "I'll miss you, Jim, and to be perfectly honest, I'll miss your future just as much. It's everything I've ever dreamed of."

"It's okay, I'm not offended," he assured her. "The future _is_ pretty amazing."

"But as much as I'd like to be a part of it," she explained, "I know I have a great deal of work to do in my own time. If those of us who believed in a brighter, cleaner, gentler future just abandoned the more difficult times, the only ones who would remain were those who were satisfied with mediocrity. It's up to me, and those who think like me, to make your future come to pass."

She wasn't looking at him, but Jim averted his eyes nonetheless. It was Spock who caught his attention, with a look that bordered, by Vulcan standards, on sympathetic. "Indeed," Spock said. "A future can only grow organically, from a past and a present."

They landed on that same street corner, later in the evening; there was less traffic, both pedestrian and vehicular, and Jim couldn't help but be relieved. He wanted to tell her to be careful, but he knew with a feeling of dread that it would defeat the purpose.

"So," she said, stepping out of the booth backwards. "This is goodbye."

"Farewell, Ms. Keeler," Spock offered.

"Goodbye, Spock." Her eyes went to Jim. "...Jim..."

If it was goodbye, Jim supposed it was a pretty good excuse to kiss her again. And then, when he saw the sweet smile she gave him afterwards, to maybe kiss her like he really wanted to, slow and firm, with his hands clutching her shoulders. She kissed back the same way, parting her lips willingly at his suggestion, and he was encouraged to kiss her harder and deeper, practically lifting her off her feet. Not only was this their last kiss, but probably her last kiss ever. If this was the end of Edith's life, Jim wanted to make sure she _really_ had a good time.

Both of them were breathing heavily by the time they parted. "Well," she murmured, smiling up at him breathlessly. "I will certainly miss the way men kiss women in the future."

He was sorely tempted to just pick her up, carry her across the street to her mission, find that cot in the back room where Surak had spent a day recovering... Give her something to _really_ enjoy. But Spock was there, waiting and watching, and this was already hard enough. "It's not the way men kiss women in the future," he told her, brushing a lock of hair back from her cheek. "That's just the way I wanted to kiss you now."

When he released her, she took another reluctant step back, regarding him thoughtfully. "I don't suppose I could convince you to stay and help?"

"I wish I could," he told her. "But I've got a time and a place of my own."

"And already someone to help _you_ ," she observed, looking past him to Spock for a moment, waiting patiently in the booth. "Go to him," she said gently. "As much as history has already accomplished before you, I'm sure the two of you have something great to contribute as well. I only wish I could find out about it."

"Me too," Jim said, stepping backwards, towards the booth. "Edith... good luck."

"Good luck to you and Spock as well," she told them. "Just think of me now and then, and I'll be happy."

"I will." He'd be thinking a little too much of her for awhile, Jim was sure.

Spock reached for the telephone as Jim returned to the booth, but hesitated, offering him a questioning look. Jim just shook his head. "Let's get the hell out of here," he murmured, facing the back of the booth.

They were both silent for most of the way home. It would be their last trip through the wormholes, and Jim wasn't really able to enjoy it. "I apologize for the necessity of that," Spock said quietly.

"It's okay," Jim said. "It had to be done." Edith had been dead for four centuries; there was no sense whatsoever in pretending they'd had a choice.

To his surprise, he felt a touch against his arm - Spock's hand, squeezing lightly, offering silent support. "...Thanks," Jim said, bowing his head.


	10. Epilogue

Captain's log, supplemental - Our first mission after the installation of the new warp core, and all the extracurricular time travel, is to observe a dying star out in the middle of nowhere. They told us the solar system was uninhabited, but given my luck, it'll probably turn out that an entire civilization decided to settle there since the last time anyone checked. Then again, I guess if that happens, it'll be a good thing we're there. So far, though, so good... except that a routine science mission, going normally, doesn't give me a whole lot to occupy my mind with.

Some of the time had been spent going over historical records, just to make sure they hadn't messed anything up. Khan still disappeared without a trace, so they hadn't been responsible for that in the first place. Digging deep into the files on others, though, had turned up some surprises. Like President Lincoln telling his staff that he wanted to propose a space exploration program once the war was over - but he'd been assassinated before he could do so. Reports said that during Doc Holliday's final hours, he'd called for a special flask of liquor that he'd been saving. And then Jim found a picture of Captain Christopher and his crew just after having landed back on Earth; Christopher himself was walking down the ramp, grinning and waving to the crowd, and wearing something kind of familiar... Jim had always wondered where Spock's hat went. It was remarkably similar to the hat that Surak was wearing in some ancient Vulcan depictions of his miraculous emergence from the desert.

Try as he might, Jim _still_ couldn't find any information whatsoever about Edith Keeler - not even an obituary, and he wasn't sure that was any sort of relief at all.

Spock too had been left distracted, it seemed, because when Jim stopped by his quarters in hopes of diversion, he recognized some of the calculations on his monitor. "Still trying to figure it out?"

"We were given an alternate solution," Spock reasoned. "I have never myself solved the problem."

"And you don't like that," Jim stated.

"No, I do not." Spock leaned back in his chair, pressing the tips of his fingers together thoughtfully. "Does it not bother you, that after such a fascinating adventure as we have had, traveling through time and interacting with personages of historical significance, we have simply returned to routine missions of observation? As if nothing has changed?"

"A little," Jim acknowledged, sitting down in the other chair, in front of Spock's desk. "But on the other hand, after all of that, I know we can handle anything Starfleet's likely to throw at us."

"I agree," said Spock. "In fact, I think we might do well to aim a bit higher."

"You don't mean quit Starfleet..." It had been just fine to talk about striking off on their own if Starfleet kicked them out, but Jim _did_ like his job. And his ship, and his crew.

"Not at all," Spock replied. "I speak merely of hobbies - particularly challenging hobbies."

Jim nodded. "Sounds like a plan. I was just going to challenge you to a game of chess," he said with a shrug, "but let's see what you've got."

Obliging, Spock turned the monitor towards him, and Jim immediately found something to question. "Wait - where did this figure come from?"

"I thought that exponential notation might better approximate the scale upon which we are operating," Spock explained, and Jim nodded. He might have something there...

They were still discussing it, and had just run a simulation that blew up in spectacular fashion, when lightning abruptly flashed through the room, and they looked away from the monitor to see a telephone booth settling on Spock's floor. "Hey, Spock," Jim greeted the older vulcan, who stepped forward into the room. "Wasn't expecting you to come visit... especially in that."

"The Federation has forbidden us from further travel with the device," said the younger Spock, rising to stand respectfully, with his hands clasped behind his back.

"So I had heard," said the elder. "They did not, however, say anything about _my_ using this machine."

"That's pretty sneaky of you," Jim said with a grin, even though the sight of the booth made him feel a little bittersweet. "I like it."

The bittersweetness, however, fell away as he caught sight of the person who was just exiting the booth, behind the older Spock. "...Edith?" he exclaimed in disbelief, seeing her smile brighten at the sight of him. "What are... I mean, it's good to see you, but what are you doing here?"

"I was leaving the mission earlier, when I just happened to see this booth again, right on that same street corner," she said, shooting the older Spock a mock-accusatory look. "I couldn't help but stop and have a peek - and here I thought _you_ might have come back to visit me."

"You know I couldn't," he said, scarcely able to believe it as she approached him, and he reached out to take her hands in his own. "They wouldn't have allowed it... Spock, how is this even possible?" he asked, abruptly turning to look at the older Spock in confusion. "I mean, the flow of history..."

"It occurred to me that the future did not change when you brought Edith from her time to yours, although you had saved her from her unfortunate fate," said the elder. "Thus any inadvertent change to history might come from returning her to the past. And if the trouble lay in her continued presence in the past," he reasoned, "then logic states that bringing her to the future would not cause a paradox, but prevent it."

"Well, yeah..." Jim might have tried to debate the point some more, but Edith was _right there_ , in his arms. Why would he want to say anything against that? "...Thanks," he managed. "I can't believe you really..."

"I have a surprise for you as well," the elder Spock addressed the younger, and stepped aside as another young woman emerged from the booth.

It took a little longer for Jim to recognize her, especially since she wasn't completely covered in thick furs. Spock recognized her at approximately the same time. "...Zarabeth," he murmured, stiffening.

"He assured me that it wouldn't ruin anything to bring me forward in time," she told Spock, reaching up to rest her arms lightly upon his shoulders. "I was, after all, going to live and die in my solitude. My existence, or non-existence, affected no one but myself."

"And perhaps us," the older Spock said knowingly. From the expression on the younger Spock's face, the older Spock didn't know quite as much as he seemed to think he did.

"So now that we're here," Edith said, gazing into Jim's eyes, "perhaps we can have an impact on history after all. We can help each other - and maybe, someday, _your_ future will be just as much an improvement over my future as your present is over mine."

"Yeah... If we all work together," Jim agreed, "then the future has to just keep getting better and better." He had a feeling that his had already improved, in fact, just because she was there, and alive.

"Might I suggest," the older Spock spoke up, "that both of you enlist in Starfleet? If you began basic training at once, you could perhaps serve aboard the Enterprise as you catch up on all the history that has passed since your own times."

"That sounds logical," Edith agreed. Jim was pretty sure he was going to have to keep her away from Spock.

Zarabeth nodded as well, still hanging off Spock despite his discomfort. "I like this ship," she said, though she was looking at Spock rather than her surroundings. "It's so... warm, and comfortable..." Spock steadfastly refused to meet her eyes.

"Now that that is settled," the older Spock continued, "I suppose that I should be on my way." He hesitated, though, regarding the monitor that still displayed the equations they'd been working on. "Oh, no, that is not how it must be done," he murmured, crossing the room to look over the equations more closely. "This is wrong - and this..."

Spock and Jim watched as he rearranged the order of calculations, changed a few numbers' magnitudes, and replaced some with different equations. "Didn't you say you didn't remember the formula?" Jim asked.

"I do not remember the entire formula," the elder acknowledged, switching their calculations around almost too quickly for Jim to follow. "I do remember small portions."

Jim and Spock exchanged a stunned glance. What he was doing was only a _small_ portion?

"What is that?" Edith asked.

"...Long story," Jim muttered, though Spock seemed to be making short work of it.

"There," he said finally, straightening once again. "That should offer a more promising perspective."

The younger Spock leaned in closer, examining the changes that had been made - but the screen went abruptly blank. He looked to the finger that had pressed the 'clear' button, and followed it up to regard Jim with curiosity.

"Thanks," Jim told the older Spock, "but we're going to figure this out someday, and it's really better that we do it by ourselves."

"That is an excellent attitude to take," the elder said with a nod. "After all, the two of you have a very special destiny together; now that it is certain you will not be parted from one another, you shall meet it, and you shall find that there is nothing you cannot accomplish. The universe from which I came would have been quite different, had you and I not met, Jim - together, we did much good for the universe, and will do so now once more."

Jim looked to Spock, who gave him a firm, certain nod. "Yeah... we will," Jim agreed.

"Having said that, I will take my leave, and allow you to resume - either your mathematics, or perhaps your biology," the older Spock suggested meaningfully, his eyes falling upon his younger counterpart and Zarabeth, who was quite determinedly cuddling up to him.

"I believe there is one significant flaw in the calculations which led to your actions," Spock said, attempting to extricate himself from Zarabeth's embrace. "In this universe, I am already romantically involved with Lieutenant Uhura."

The older Spock raised an eyebrow. "I was unaware."

"That is obvious," the younger observed.

"Fascinating," murmured the elder, considering Zarabeth, who had backed off, looking somewhat dejected upon hearing the news. "In that case, another suggestion - Zarabeth, would you care to come with me? We can always use further assistance in the rebuilding of Vulcan society, and our new colony is being built on a very _warm_ planet."

"Is it...?" she said hopefully, going to him as he held out a welcoming arm.

"Yes," he replied, sliding that arm around her waist. "Quite warm indeed. I am sure that we can thaw you out... quite thoroughly."

Jim found this at least as disturbing as Pike and Gaila. Especially since he'd never seen either Spock come that close to a self-satisfied smirk.

"You appear unnerved," the older Spock remarked, tugging Zarabeth closer against him. "Perhaps I should enlighten you as to one of the most unlikely changes for the better that our partnership wrought in my timeline."

"What's that?" Jim asked.

"You taught me," he said, somber as he removed something from his pocket, "to, as humans would say, 'party'."

With that, he slipped on a pair of wraparound sunglasses as he stepped back into the booth with Zarabeth. "Be excellent to each other," he bade Kirk, Spock and Edith, holding his hand up in salute.

"...Live long and prosper," the younger replied, despite his obvious bewilderment.

The elder shook his head slowly. "Someday, you will learn the proper response."

The room flashed brightly again as the booth sank through the floor, and Jim looked to Spock, intrigued. "Well, that's pretty..." He couldn't resist. "...Fascinating."

Spock himself looked somewhat disgruntled. "I myself would be inclined to say, rather, that it was highly illogical."


End file.
